


We Happy Few

by Madfizz



Series: Pre-Series 9 [2]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Adventure, Angst, F/M, Mystery, Sequel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-05-27 14:15:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 31,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6287860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madfizz/pseuds/Madfizz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SEQUEL TO MY KINGDOM COME: The Doctor and Clara wake up in a strange city with no memory of how they got there. Little do they know, the more they start to remember, the more dangerous their adventure becomes. Post-Last Christmas and pre-Series 9. Tried to write it as a hybrid episode (mix of a typical series 8 and series 9 episode).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. After they Fall

_"Rise of the Second Millennium? Do you really want to see that film..?"_   
  


_"Why? Have you got something against the 21st Century?"  
_  

_The man eyed his companion: a young woman who was just as stubborn as he. A woman also not afraid to speak her mind to him. Fitting, he supposed. They would follow each other to the end of oblivion.  
_  

_"Course not! It's just… you'd think there'd be more interesting films than one about the 21st Century. Why not make a film about the 51st? When the ice age and World War VI ravaged the Earth?" she quipped, looping her arm around his and snuggling close. A retort that had begun to form on his lips died. He couldn’t help but smile. So she did pay attention to some of his ramblings about Earth history…_   
  


_The pair stood underneath a tattered umbrella, idle on the sidewalk next to an old fashioned cinema. The holographic poster in front of them flashed lazily, showing signs of failure with missing pixels in the image. On the poster was a picture of a thriving primitive city. Primitive was being generous; he considered it beyond primitive compared to the numerous megacities he had visited in the Earth Empire. She glanced over at the other posters on the wall. It was probably time to put away his passion for knowledge and history; today was about her - not him. They had specifically ventured out into the not so glamourous part of the city to have the retro cinema experience that she so craved. It reminded her of home, she told him. It would make her happy, in other words. Seeing her happy only brought him happiness. He would win - regardless of what film they saw.  
_  

_"Here, you take the umbrella. Check the other posters if you'd rather see a different film. I'm just going to have a looksie to see if the cinema is even open." The man said, unwinding his arm from hers and passing her the umbrella._   
  


_"I still don't understand why you use this…" she half snickered before strolling off to examine the other posters. Grinning widely, the man strode off in the opposite direction towards the front doors of the complex. He was lightly saturated by the time he got underneath cover, but he didn’t mind. Peering inside, there seemed to be no sign of activity. Only specs of dim light shone within the darkness. Frowning, he figured he must have gotten the day wrong for when they were closed. His attention was drawn away however when a scuffle erupted nearby. A scream quickly followed. He turned and saw the umbrella lying crumpled on the sidewalk… Where did she go? Another scream told him she was nearby - and in danger. Was she around the side of the building? He ran at full speed, ignoring the increased weight caused by his soaked clothing sticking to his skin. Rounding the building, he entered an alleyway. As if the poorly lit sidewalk didn't give him enough chills, this network of alleyways had the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Oh, why had he insisted on coming here? They could have just retired after an eventful day out, then return tomorrow during the day. Idiot, idiot, idiot! He hurried down the back alley; the rapid thumps in his chest driving his every step. More sounds of a scuffle, followed by a loud thud. He made sure to call her name over and over. Upon making a left turn, two figures began to make a dash in the opposite direction. They disappeared into the shadows that the looming buildings provided.  
_  

_"You two! Stop!" He cried, now in pursuit. If it weren't for the dark and thick coat of liquid that pooled amongst the regular crystal clear puddles, he would have kept running. Instead, a mix of curiosity and shock stopped him dead in his tracks. There she was, in a heap on the floor, unmoving. His eyes darted to her face, which was half hidden from her wet hair plastered to her skin. She was on her side, and was swarmed with crimson. It pooled mainly around her head, where he figured her wound was. He called her name again, one last time, before collapsing next to her. He tried to move the loose strands of her brown hair out of her face with trembling fingers. The alleyway started to spin around him. Faint noises that were common to the night became piercing screeches to his ears. He called for help, but what type of help lurked in an alleyway? The sounds he heard now became unbearable. A rustle in the alley. A faint siren out on the street. Nearby whispers. Even the dull whirring that had started up in the distance drove him to insanity. Had someone already summoned help? Were people coming to see what the commotion was all about? It was too late for any of that anyway. Leaning down on his companion's lifeless body, he whispered in her ear:_   
  


_"I love you…"  
_  

XXX  
 

The patter of rain on his face forced the Doctor to open his eyes and scrunch his face. Strangely enough, the droplets on his skin were not icy nor warm to the touch. He heaved himself upright to find that he had been laying on the side of a road in an urban environment. A woman walked past, paying no attention to the confused old man that had apparently taken a nap on the sidewalk. A string of memories suddenly flooded back. _Clara and I were about to make our way back to the TARDIS? How did..? Clara!_ He was up on his feet in seconds.  
 

"Clara?!" he called, frantically scanning his foreign surroundings. The immediate area was shadowed by tall, metallic structures, and only the flickering street lamps provided any source of light. He decided to start walking up the street, hoping to find Clara nearby. As he went, he observed a remarkably quiet hovercar whizz past. He figured he was in the far future, relative to the time period he just left. Also, judging by the various call to arms propaganda posters that littered the walls he passed, he placed himself roughly in a city in the Earth Empire. The taste and feel of the place weren’t giving him any clues either. He just needed more details, then he could find out exactly where he was and work out what happened to him. However, it became increasingly apparent that after every intersection he traversed, he ended up on virtually the same street he started on. He was stuck in a silently slumbering city with almost identical streets - and hardly a soul walked them. Grumbling, he stopped in his tracks and craned his head up. Many of the tall buildings on either side of him had only a couple of windows illuminated. The sky above was pitch black. _That can't be because of light pollution… or could it?_ He shook his head. No matter, even if the stars wouldn't help him, he would figure out where he was soon enough. _Perhaps I can find that woman who passed me earlier…  
_  

"I thought we were on Earth, but the lightning here is a brilliant red." a familiar voice commented, breaking the deafening silence. To his relief, Clara stood beside him. She, too, watched the sky. Sure enough, violent streaks rippled through the darkness, coating the city in a dull red glow for a split second. They waited, but the delayed roar of the sky that followed never came.  
  


"Glad you're okay. I was looking for you." the Doctor finally remarked as he peered down at his short companion. The light rain had done nothing to the volume of her hair.  
 

"You looked like you were sight-seeing, Doctor." she bit, meeting his gaze with a sly grin. As soon as she did however, a wave of forgotten emotions hit her. The Doctor noted her startled look before she had the chance to advert his gaze and conceal it.  
 

"Positioning of stars? Determining location and time?" He retorted, choosing to ignore her little realisation. Clara nodded with the faintest hint of interest. Her mind clearly elsewhere now. "Eh, never mind. Right, first order of business: find out exactly where we are. Second -"  
  


"Doctor, we were about to head to the medbay, remember?" she suddenly blurted, "I think we should see if there's someone to tend to your wounds first…" she trailed off, examining his new outfit with interest. He cocked an eyebrow, then looked down at what he was wearing. Gone were the bloodied button up shirt and tattered coat he remembered wearing prior to their memory wipe. Clara had a new change of clothes too. _When did I change?_ He thought to himself with knitted eyebrows.  
 

"Unbutton your shirt." Clara commanded. That earned her another raised eyebrow. He complied however, slowly unbuttoning the new navy shirt. Clean bandages were drawn across his waist and ribs.  
 

"When did this happen? Do you remember anything at all after entering the TARDIS? Anything helps." The Doctor asked, rebuttoning his shirt a little more hastily. Clara shook her head. Something was always very wrong when memories went missing.  
 

"I only remember coming into the TARDIS from the roof of the hosp-" she fumbled with her words. The Doctor leant closer towards her, hoping she had suddenly remembered something. Instead, she merely hung her head low.  
 

"Clara?"  
 

She finally looked up at him, eyes widening.  
 

"Doctor, I know this isn't the time or place but… I really need to apologise for what happened in hospital. I -"  
 

"Oh, Clara, you really don't need to apologise for that. I understand you did what you had to do to survive." he quickly cut in, glancing around the barren street. They weren't going to ask for directions anytime soon. Satisfied, he turned back to give her his full attention, but found her staring at the ground. He blinked. _Wait, this seems very… familiar?  
_  

"I hurt you. Voluntarily. I also let you get hurt. I don't expect you to forgive me for that."  
  


"Clara Oswald, I will always forgive you."  
 

She lifted her head, stunned. Her own words in the cemetery echoed back to her.  
 

"And besides, you didn't have a choice." he added. The nagging sense of deja-vu continued to nip at him.    
 

"There's always a choice…" she said wistfully. Instinct suddenly kicked in, telling him he was following a forgotten scene. He allowed concern to take over, prompting him to close the gap between them. He expected Clara to shy away, and as scripted, Clara involuntarily took a step back. Instead of looking away however, she squinted slightly at him.  
 

"We've done this before, haven't we? Apology and all?" she inquired.  
 

"I get the feeling that we have."  
 

"That's not good. How much did we forget!?"  
 

"We need to get a riggle on. We'll be in more trouble the longer we go without those lost memories."  
 

The pair decided on a direction and began walking. To find any sort of indicator as to where they were was paramount. It would assist greatly in finding the TARDIS, for one thing.  
 

"I have a really bad feeling about this place. It - it's too dark." Clara muttered half to herself. The Doctor however, felt more than uneasy. Paranoia slowly consumed him as shadows danced from the corner of his eye. Since being here, had he always felt this paranoid? He glanced over his shoulder only to see the lifeless street that lay behind them. Upon passing a closed down pharmacy, a glint in the window caught the Doctor's eye. He paused to examine the glass pane more closely. It was pitch dark inside, except for the frequent flicker of static in the middle of the room. The static made the Doctor blink, and suddenly, numbers hastily cycling from 1 through to 9 appeared. He desperately tried to keep his eyes open to see the rest of the code, but the close proximity of the numbers felt as if they were searing his eyes. He blinked once more. The flurry of numbers had gone. A tug on his arm brought him back to the silent street.  
 

"Doctor? Are you alright?" Clara asked carefully, cocking her head slightly. She still had a grasp on his arm as he turned to her.  
 

"I saw lines of code… I didn't catch all of it though." replied the Doctor with a sigh. He spun around to peer inside the pharmacy again, only to find that the static had gone. While he examined the pharmacy, two people passed by them. Clara grinned at the Doctor and began her pursuit.  
 

"Finally! Let's go ask the locals where we are! I haven't seen a soul since I found you." Strange, he hadn't either. Clara caught up with the pair, and struggled to keep up with their brisk pace. "Hiya! Sorry to bother you but we're kind of lost… Where abouts are we?"  
 

The two kept walking, not even bothering to acknowledge the panting woman next to them. Clara stared at their blank faces. The two men did not blink nor seemed to be huffing and puffing at the speed they were going. She came to a halt to catch her breath. The Doctor - who was on her heels - stopped beside her, staring after the mysterious pair. They seemed to fade into the shadows as they got further and further away.  
 

"No luck then?"  
 

"They didn't even look at me, let alone talk to me," Clara gritted her teeth, "and the weirdest part was that they didn't even look like they were breathing." That caught his attention.  
 

"Not breathing?"  
 

"Yeah, and they didn't blink once either."  
 

He was missing something very obvious. Whatever it was, it was right in front of him. The overwhelming urge to slap himself sometimes arose in moments like these.  
 

"Uh, Doctor..?" Clara whispered quickly. All trace of venom from earlier had left her voice. _Silence and near darkness? People not breathing? Not blinking?  
_  

"Just a minute, I'm thinking…" _Never ending, near identical streets? No stars?  
_

"Doctor!" she squeaked a little louder. He snapped back to his surroundings, only to find that shadows extruded from the ground and surrounded them both. They backed away, but hit one of the building walls. They were cornered. Darkness closed in around Clara at an alarming rate. It was like a thick black liquid that snaked up her body. It started consuming her lower half, much to his horror. He went to reach for her, but his hands grasped out at nothing. Clara was gone. It was as if she merged with the shadows and melted into the ground. Nothing of her remained. He stared at his outstretched hand, fixated on the darkness that was now swallowing it whole.  
 

"It - it can't be. No, no, no, no. I got rid of this! Why is it - "  
 

He was rooted to the ground now, unable to speak. The shadows had fast covered his body and now slithered up above his mouth. Black started to seep around his peripheral vision, creeping slowly inwards. His vision was gone. The darkness took him.  


	2. A Bridge Too Far

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara wakes up in a lifeless, white forest. With no Doctor, no memory, and night fast approaching; her survival skills will be tested.

He never dreamt about that night. There were only dreams of her twirling in a snowy forest, with snowflakes floating around her. She became immortal in the eyes of time. It never dared to touch her. But he was afraid that she would not be immortal to his mind. He was afraid that when he opened his eyes, she would disappear forever. The months went by, and soon enough, he stopped seeing her face. She had turned her back to him. His mind had failed him. Oh, what he would give to see her face again. The snowfall ceased after that. Everything stilled. 

His library used to be ever-growing. It too, became stilled. He hadn't picked up a book in years. What good was knowledge to him now? It would not bring her back. It could not bring her back. He knew that all too well. Even time itself could not repair the damage done. History was set. History was now his enemy. There was no rewind, only a pause. A still moment in time, that seemed ever-lasting. 

A whisper echoed from the stars themselves. A chance to take back his happiness from the universe that so cruelly took it. His next few years were movement. Searching. Planning. Preparing. He never took the time to understand. He was facing God, and walking backwards into hell. 

He often wondered what she would think of him now. Apart from his aged features, would she still see the same man? The same man who would tear the universe asunder for her? The same man who continued to follow her long after she had become lost in the abyss? Sure, he played the game differently now, but he knew he hadn’t changed. Not really, anyway. He was fighting for her - that was all the reason he needed. If he managed to save her, and if they were together once more, she would see him. He closed his eyes, and for the first time in years, he was not afraid to open them. 

XXX

With a flutter of her eyes, Clara was greeted with a white world. She found herself slumped against a bare tree trunk in the middle of a dense, dead forest. A fresh layer of snow coated the ground, and somehow she hadn't been buried beneath it. Furrowing her eyebrows, she took in the bittersweet scenery. Where am I? She lifted herself slowly upright. Dusting the patches of snow off her jeans, she realised just how underdressed she was for the occasion. I'm wearing a pair of jeans and a blouse in the snow? What was I doing before I…? Flashes of following the Doctor through the TARDIS corridors hit her. Where is he? She thought with rising dread. Doctor missing. Memory gone. All alone in a barren forest. If she was lucky, she would surely die of hyperthermia after the night passed. Otherwise, she would have to contend with feral beasts, aliens, or monsters. The red sun was already touching the horizon, and a brilliant orange, red and purple bathed the trees in the distance. Shadows began to creep out from the base of the trunks in response. She was on borrowed time now. Against her better judgement, she called out, hoping it reached the intended recipient.

"Doctor? Are you here?" No reply. She eyed the sunset carefully as she began to trudge through the snow. OK, stay calm, stay calm. I'll find him soon enough. For now, it's better to be on the move. I need to look out for him while I find shelter. I hope he's ok… She mentally ran through everything she knew about survival when lost in an unforgiving environment. As some of the more unsavoury tactics of keeping warm popped into her head, she realised she hadn't once shivered or felt the icy bite of the breeze. Clara looked towards the dead trees in front of her. With their branches, they danced gently. Snow, wind, and near-night. Why am I not freezing? Maybe I'm not on Earth? Her thoughts ignited a strong sense of deja-vu, but she shook it off and continued her journey deeper into the forest. 

The sun had finally sunk below the horizon, and the sky left only a little red behind as it faded to a mix of dark blue and grey. It was only under this new backdrop that the almost serene snowy landscape transformed into something sour. The first of many shivers started to go down Clara's spine. It was as if the temperature had suddenly dropped as soon as the sun disappeared. She hastily picked up her pace, becoming more and more desperate to find any sort of shelter - or to find him. As long as she was with him, she’d be OK. She had to dart between trees as she entered the thicker part of the forest. Not a good sign for finding civilisation, but better for finding cover from the cold. She battled through what felt like a forest repeating itself every few minutes, before a break in the trees appeared. It seemed as if the clear path was beckoning to her as the lifeless, shadowy trees on either side arched inwards. Every inch of her being screamed in protest at following this convenient passageway through the forest, but Clara was too exhausted to care.

It was now pitch dark, and all efforts of remaining calm were abandoned. I can't feel my toes. Wait, how long has it been since I last ate? How long until exhaustion hits me? A flash of light from the corner of her eye snapped her out of those panicked thoughts. She came to a halt and peered through the arched trees. The tiny beacon barely shone through them. Follow the light? Or follow the clear path? Clara weighed her options carefully. She definitely felt more drawn to the light than to the path. With a sigh, she forced her way between the arched trees and trekked through the dense forest once more. The light flickered slightly as she got closer and closer… until it disappeared completely. Clara frantically scanned her surroundings, hoping to catch a glimpse of the light or, better yet, the source of the light. Nothing. She sunk down into the snowy ground, choking back a sob. Deep breaths. I can follow my footprints back to that clear path. I can still make it. I can still find shelter. As she was about to stand up, a low growl emanated somewhere behind her. Clara caught her breath, and quickly froze on the spot. Scratching closely followed the growl, causing her heart to race. It was only a matter of time before I ran into something… She slowly turned to face the source of the noise. Through the shadows, a figure looked as if it was perched between two closely knit trees. It did not seem to care that she had turned around to face it. With bated breath, Clara waited for it to make a move. She struggled to keep still with her limbs violently shaking. Whether it was from the cold, or from fear, she did not know. All she knew was that she would face whatever it was, and go down fighting. She wouldn’t be able to run very fast in the dark through this snow anyway. The scratching noise started up again, and the figure twitched slightly between the trees. It then let out a rumbling groan of frustration. It sounded human. Maybe it wasn't interested in her and was injured? On impulse, she crouched low and started to creep slowly to it. The crunching of the snow startled the figure as she got close. 

"Look, whatever you are, just get it over with quickly. I can't stand being here any longer. I'm cold and miserable, and the trees have been rudely ignoring me. No matter how politely I ask, they won't let me leave! But you were probably counting on that, I'm guessing?" Clara had never been more relieved to hear that grumpy Scottish accent. She stood up straight and raced over to him. His scowl quickly morphed into a grin when she got closer. 

"Doctor! Oh thank God! How did you get in there?" Clara gave him a quizzical look as she examined his state. The Doctor was entangled between the two intertwining trees, with branches wrapped around his outstretched arms. 

"Well, I woke up like this. I'm not quite sure how… Anyway, good to see you! I won't have to scratch my way out of this one." 

"How can I help?" 

"Reach into my coat and grab the sonic. Setting 65 should do the trick." The Doctor explained, twisting his body slightly to reveal the inside of his coat in the gap where the two trees met. Clara reached in and carefully pulled out the sonic screwdriver. She set it to the correct setting, then aimed it at the trees. The whir of the frequency echoed loudly. If they hadn't managed to attract unwanted attention before, they were certainly going to now. The trees immediately flexed, then began to untangle from one another. The branches that latched onto the Doctor's arms released their grip. He stumbled forward upon release, and Clara grabbed him before he fell flat on his face. 

"Thanks." He mumbled, rubbing his sore arms tenderly. Before he could say anything else, Clara had already pulled him in for a hug. "Missed me?" 

"Wandering alone in a dark forest - starving and freezing - even you would miss you." Clara shot. If they weren't still in danger, Clara would have stayed in the warmth of the hug for a little longer. However, they had to keep moving. The Doctor pulled away, scratching his head. 

"You changed clothes? Why did you change into that?" he said with raised eyebrows. She looked down at her outfit. 

"What do you mean? I remember wearing this in that weird city..." Clara pulled a sullen face. 

"Interesting... So you didn’t have the opportunity to change into snow appropriate clothes. And what city? I only remember being in the TARDIS and looking into a pharmacy window." 

"Yeah, that pharmacy was in the city. I also remember walking onto the TARDIS to go to the medbay, but other that and the city, I haven't a clue what we've been up to." Clara shook again. She was unable to feel her arms or legs now. The Doctor, having remembered that she didn’t have a low body temperature like he, gave her a concerned look. Before, he would hide his emotions well enough so that she would not know what he was thinking. But lately, he's been a bit more expressive - much to Clara's delight. It meant that she could read him a little easier now. That look he gave me… Fragmented memories of him in two different places giving her that same expression popped into her brain. Both times he approached her: rounding the TARDIS controls to console her, and closing the gap between them on the abandoned street of a futuristic city shrouded in shadows. An all too familiar feeling of guilt burnt hotly in her stomach. She blinked, coming back to a confused Doctor. He had his coat in his outstretched hand, offering it to her.

"Clara? Is something the matter?" 

She took the coat and slipped it on. It wasn't much better, but she was grateful nonetheless. 

"Thank you. I - I remembered something. I think I apologised to you twice in two different places," Clara revealed, eyes wandering elsewhere now. "And I think I know what I was sorry about. Why did I say sorry twice?" 

"Our memories appear to have been wiped, Clara. Perhaps wiped multiple times, now that I think about it... Apologise again." he ordered. She merely stared at him, prompting him to elaborate. "Most memory wipes do a poor job of deleting the emotions that were attached to the memory. So, apologising will hopefully jog our memories." 

"Oh, right. Okay," Clara was caught a bit off guard. She crossed her arms, hoping the Doctor's coat would at least warm her chest up. "Well, firstly… Doctor, I want you to know that I’d never intentionally hurt -" she was quickly cut off by the Doctor snatching her hand. His eyes darted from tree to tree. 

"There are shadows that are moving towards us. Run." he hissed. With a curt nod, she allowed him to lead the way as they started sprinting blindly through the snow. More images seeped into her mind. This time, they were in the city. Both of them were surrounded by shadows. The blackness was crawling up her skin, binding her and blinding her. Clara snapped herself out of the memory and refocused. They had stopped beside a rapidly running river. The two of them spun around, eyeing the tree line. The Doctor let go of her hand and began to pace up and down the river bank. He shook his head repeatedly. She could see that something had clicked into place in his mind. He had remembered something - like she had - except his face had paled considerably. 

"Doctor, those shadows… they were in the city." 

"I know." 

"They caught us. Th - they’re doing something to us… They're making us forget what, though." 

"I know." 

"What do you mean 'you know'?! Why do you look so -" 

"Doesn't matter. I remember now… And we don't have much time. I'll explain this later - if there is a later." he cursed, coming to a halt beside her. Clara tried to control her breathing. 

"No, you tell me everything now. What are they? And what exactly do they want?" 

"We can't run Clara. We'll die." 

"We'll die regardless of whether they get us or not. But, if they do get us, we'll forget. They’ll do God knows what to us, then we'll end up somewhere else and have to figure all this out again. Who knows how long we've been doing that for!?" she exclaimed with flailing hands. Her eyes never left the edge of the forest. He had stopped looking for the shadows, however, and had turned to face her. 

"You don't understand. We won't have to do this for very long," Clara took notice of his disheartened look, but quickly returned her gaze to the trees. "The poorly designed environments, the shadows chasing us… We're in a simulation. A TARDIS program that I created. It's called the Schrodinger Protocol. Right now, we're actually in the TARDIS. Every step we take in this simulation is a step on the TARDIS. With each step, we walk towards our death."

"What the hell? You designed a death-trap? Why? And why are we in it?!" she fumed, ignoring the fact that she could see her breath in front of her. 

"Well, I thought it was a good idea at the time. The program was designed to stop intruders from using the TARDIS. It would pop them into the simulation and lead them to a holding cell - they would be none the wiser. The shadows were a back-up if the intruder figured out they were in a simulation. I - I never could quite finish the protocol though - that's why we're walking to our deaths. The holding cells haven't quite been… finished." 

"So why didn’t you finish the program?"

"Partially because of the coding, and partially because the TARDIS wouldn't let me. She didn't like it, so she would rearrange corridors so that the walk to the holding cell was prolonged. I suppose that's why we haven't reached the cells yet." The Doctor mused. 

"But we're not intruders! How did we even get sucked into this?" Clara said in an exasperated tone. The Doctor merely shrugged at her, clearly a bit annoyed himself. "Wait, why was the TARDIS so against this?"

The Doctor sighed, "Maybe now's not the best time." 

The darkness appeared from behind the trees, slowly slithering towards them. There was no choice; they had to run. They both bolted downstream, looking for any way to cross the river. The further down they went, the rockier the bank of the river got. Before they knew it, the river steepened, leaving them to run beside a cliff with a long fall down. Clara gasped when she saw a flimsy wooden rope bridge up ahead, and pointed to it. 

"We'll cross it and cut the ropes." he managed through irregular breaths. Clara nodded and made a beeline towards it. They began to trek across the old wood carefully - always making sure to glance behind them. The shadows aren't very fast. They won't reach the end of the bridge in time. Clara grinned, she just hoped that they didn't know how to swim. They would then be able to stop running towards the cells, and think of a way out of the simulation. 

"Right, now is the perfect time to tell me why the TARDIS didn't let you finish the protocol." 

Looking over his shoulder, he considered her for a moment as he stepped gingerly from plank to plank, "I made the simulation too convincing." 

"Meaning?" 

"Meaning if you die here, you'll die in real life too. If you're dying of hyperthermia in the simulation, your brain is convinced that you're dying of hyperthermia outside of the simulation." Clara immediately felt sick, so decided to stop asking questions and try to resign herself. 

The pair had just passed the halfway point when the Doctor froze. Clara almost bumped into him, causing the bridge to sway violently. 

"No…" the Doctor breathed, his knuckles whitening on the ropes. Clara followed his gaze to the end of the bridge, where more shadows had appeared. Should've seen that one coming, she thought bitterly. They looked behind them to see that the other pursuing shadows had started to cross the bridge. They were trapped. Going backwards or forwards meant a memory wipe, and more steps towards their death. I wonder how far away we are? How many more steps can we spare? Wait, steps..? Clara peered over the bridge and down at the turbulent water below.

"Doctor, the river?" 

"A risky exit."

"But does swimming count as steps?" Clara asked quickly. They were now both looking over the side of the bridge, causing it to rotate around almost 90 degrees. She held onto the rope for dear life. Her back was parallel to the wooden planks. Luckily, both their boots had enough grip to prevent them from slipping off if they changed their mind about letting the current take them. 

"I'm not entirely certain. I can't remember if I programmed swimming to register as steps…"

"Let's jump and see what happens?" she gulped, watching the gears behind his eyes turn. A quick glance at the approaching shadows on either side helped him decide. To her shock, he held out his hand. She took it immediately. 

"See you on the other side." he smirked. They both let go of the rope and plunged down. As soon as they hit the rapids, Clara was immediately ripped away from the Doctor's grasp. They were dragged under, and descended into the icy depths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Thanks for reading! I'll try to put up a chapter every 2 weeks (give or take). All aboard the angst train hehe!


	3. 0001 Hours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's minutes past midnight; there's no going back now for The Doctor and Clara.

One minute he was struggling for air. His eyes were squeezed shut while he was helplessly battered and ripped apart by the rapids. The next minute, he felt cold hard metal rise up to meet him. He couldn't help but cough and splutter as he found himself laying on his side in a narrow corridor. The recognisable green glow and narrow hexagonal doorways helped him steady his breathing. Are we out of the simulation? He rose, realising he had his coat back on. We must be, he answered himself as he peered up the corridor. Clara was further along, lying on her back and wheezing loudly. Before he could call out to her, a sharp, piercing stab of pain shot through his skull. He clutched the sides of his head, crying out. Through his blurred vision, he saw Clara jerk upright. Various schematics of the TARDIS that he hadn’t thought about in years were suddenly popping up in his brain. I'm being scanned! The Doctor tried to lower a hand to reach into his pocket, but could not steady himself. The pain was too great. As he scrambled for the sonic, he gritted his teeth and tried to think of anything and everything to delay the scan. 

"Doctor!" Clara sounded like she was miles away. Her words were drowned out by the crescendoing white noise rattling his brain. More images came through, but the Doctor had managed to push some of the more important memories back and conceal them. A voice, as clear as day, broke through the racket in his head. 

"So what they say about you is true! You really are a tough nut to crack! I'm actually quite impressed that you two managed to escape the program, then again, you did design most of it. Hope you liked my tweaks to it, by the way." The man cackled. His jovial attitude threw the Doctor for a second. 

"Out of my head, now!" The Doctor snarled through his teeth. His fingertips were now on the screwdriver. Just. Need. To pull it out…

"No can do, 'Doctoroo'! You have something I want. I was really hoping you'd have been nice and sedated in the holding cells - would have made this loads easier. Oh well, time to change tactics. Let's ramp up the mind jacking!" The voice boomed excitedly. The white noise now exploded into a screech, and the Doctor fell to his knees. The sonic clattered on the metallic floor as both hands were now glued to his skull. The roof of his mouth began to taste metallic. The important TARDIS information that was safely concealed behind thick walls was now wearing thin, forcing him to mentally lash out at the intruding scan. While fighting, he didn't realise that his right hand was wrenched from his head. Soft skin met his fingertips. 

"Telepathic link. Now!" Clara's voice dipped in and out. She had a firm grip on his right arm to make sure he didn't pull away from her temple. 

"What..?" 

"Sharing! More mental junk to sift through." 

His racing hearts skipped a few beats. She would be sharing not only the scan, but the pain that came with it. There was no way he could think straight while battling the scan. He had to trust that she would be OK. She'll cope. She'll buy us time. The Doctor held his breath, and allowed the link to establish. It was instantaneous. The pain lessened. He mostly regained his senses, although, he wished now that he hadn't. Clara screamed. It was as if there were knives being driven into his chest. Her fingers dug into his right arm as he reached for the sonic with his left. In one fluid motion, he brought the sonic up between them and activated it. A blinding white light replaced the images that were being stolen from his mind. It took a minute or so for the stars behind his eyes to fade away. He found himself lying once more on the floor, with Clara semi-conscious beside him. Dizzily, he crawled over to her and shook her gently. 

"Clara? Are you ok?" 

"Mmmh." she merely grunted in response. Her eyes were still shut tight. The Doctor's upper lip curled as he spoke to the absent voice. 

"Right, speak up. Your name and what you want. Now." 

The loudspeakers in the TARDIS corridor crackled. 

"You managed to fry the scanner..? I really need to get me one of those light up -" the baffled voice was cut off.

"Enough. If you won't tell me who you are, then I will find you and we will get very acquainted in person." he growled, still kneeling beside a groaning Clara. The voice snorted loudly. 

"Y'know, I researched you and your ladyfriend. Found everything there is to know about one Clara Oswald. You, on the other hand… Fragments. An enigma! I couldn’t even find your real name - even in the most elusive databases in the universe! I looked EVERYWHERE. Couldn't find it. So, unless you give me the courtesy, then you can call me the Programmer. My deal? Simple: hand over your time machine, and I'll let you and the girl off on Earth in 2015. Easy peasy! No upfront payments!" The Programmer explained. The speaker continued to broadcast the sound of rapid typing. Is the TARDIS not parked on the roof of that hospital anymore? The Doctor wondered to himself as he saw Clara groggily open her eyes. 

"Why would you want this time machine, of all things? To have been able to translate, hack, and force-initiate my program remotely, I'm guessing we're far enough into the future that time travel is readily available." The Doctor surmised. He stood up, and helped Clara to her feet. 

"Why, your TARDIS is high end quality. No mistakes. Destination is guaranteed. Bonus: it's Time Lord technology. I'm sold! And I'm already at your doors, Doctor. I'm a knockin'. Physically, I mean. I can only do so much outside of the TARDIS. Anyway, by hijacking your abandoned program - carelessly left outside of the safety of those big bad Time Lord firewalls - I've found a window into the TARDIS interface. The old girl is not happy, let me tell you! She put up a real good fight while you two were busy. Point is, I'll find out how to let myself into the console room soon. I saw enough of your mind to figure out how the internal systems of the TARDIS work. I'm only telling you this because I want you to know that I've already won. The TARDIS is already mine. Save me the effort and hand it over."

The Doctor swallowed heavily. He could feel Clara's widening eyes on him now. If we reach the console room, I can fight him off and stop him from coming inside… 

"Thinking you've already won will be your biggest mistake. I will never give you the TARDIS." The Doctor spat. He gestured for Clara to follow, and she nodded mutely - already knowing where they were headed. They made their way down the corridor hastily. 

"Well, if that's how you're gonna be…" he dramatically whined. Drumming fingers came through the speakers. Suddenly, the Programmer's tone quickly shifted. "I can't promise that you will see the end of this day, Doctor. But I will promise you this: I am taking your TARDIS. Whether you're under my boot or not when I finally do is entirely up to you."

"You don't scare us. And you really are deluded if you think you can just take whatever you want." Clara finally said. As she spoke, a slight buzz in the back of his head made the Doctor flinch. Just barely, the familiar feeling of a telepathic link wavered. Whether it was the TARDIS, or something else entirely, he did not know. 

"I am far from deluded! I don't think I can take whatever I want. I KNOW I can! I'll show you. Look - ah, hang on, just a sec." the speaker went silent. The pair rounded a corner to find that the TARDIS had not rearranged its corridors as it usually did when they were heading back to the console room. 

"Doctor..?"

"She's probably busy keeping this lunatic out of her systems. We need to keep - "

Hello? Is this thing on? Doctor? Can you hear me? Oooh, this is neat. I love telepathical engineering! 

The Doctor froze. Clara stopped beside him, giving him a puzzled look. 

"C'mon? We need to hurry." Clara beckoned. She got no reply. 

You can hear me, can't you? Wait… Yes, yes you can! I can see you now on my monitor. Boy, you look shocked! 

You..? What? How?! 

Wait, I have another call. Please hold. 

The Doctor spun around to face Clara. She was still staring at him, until her eyes began to bug out. 

"You hear him too?" The Doctor asked her. She nodded quickly. 

"How is he in my head?" Clara gasped. 

The speaker burst into life. 

"Good news: I'm an augmented human. I've hooked myself into the TARDIS interface, and am currently hacking away at that pesky firewall. I've made some serious progress these past couple of minutes. I can now telepathically communicate with you two! Delightful, isn't it?" The Programmer chimed in. "Just make sure to keep those thoughts 'PG', alright?" 

"Let's keep going. We can't be far now." The Doctor whispered, ignoring the irritable laughter that followed. They both started off again, jogging down the narrow hexagonal corridors. The green haze that usually bathed the corridors began to morph into a dark red. 

"And now I have full control of the architectural reconfiguration systems. Is reality sinking in yet, Doctor?" the Programmer jeered. 

"I'll see you very soon, Programmer. Then we'll see who gets hit by reality." 

"Ooh, very violent! But, sadly, I don't think we'll be seeing each other anytime soon. I've found something very interesting indeed! You might especially like it, Clara!" the voice drained out as the corridors began to melt around Clara and the Doctor. As the roof separated, it revealed an overcast sky. The walls crumbled around them, and they found themselves in a cemetery. His heart filled with dread. He knew exactly where they were. How did you manage to project this potential future? The Doctor privately asked the Programmer. There was no reply. Meanwhile, Clara glanced around, surveying her new environment with peaked interest. A group of people, dressed in all black, huddled together around a grave nearby. A familiar teary face pulled away from the crowd and began to walk towards them. 

"Is that..? Rigsy? What's happened?" Clara breathed, and went to approach him. However, the Doctor had stepped in front, blocking her view of the heartbreaking scene.   
"Clara, I'm going to need you to trust me. You need to close your eyes. Do not open them until I say." he said carefully. She paused to meet his eyes, before complying.

"You'll always have my trust. So, what am I not allowed to look at?" 

"Everything. A potential future of ours is currently being broadcasted. It's fine if I see bits of it, but if you see any of it…" 

"Fixed point. Got it." she spoke a little too quickly. He wondered whether she had already put the pieces together as to whose funeral it was. No matter. This would only be set in stone if she saw the dates etched onto the grave. Clara held out her hand. He took it and led her away from the group of mourners. The further they went, the less real the simulation looked. The red corridor walls resurfaced from the dry grass, and the grey clouds above evaporated behind the corridor ceiling. 

The Doctor heaved a sigh of relief, "We're back. You can open your eyes now." 

"Thank God. How has the Programmer managed to get a hold of our potential futures? It's not in the TARDIS database, surely? Only fixed events would be stored?" Clara inquired as she opened her eyes. She watched as he scratched his chin. A grim frown crossed his face as he started down the corridor. 

"Can you feel a very faint sensation in the back of your skull? Not like the ice-cream pain, but something more…" 

"Nicer? Yeah, I do feel it." she finished, trying to keep up with his long strides. "What's that got to do with anything?" 

"When I overloaded the brain scanner, we had an established telepathic link to share the scan. I think the over-amplification of the scan has kept that link alive and has inadvertently transcended to match the medium the scanner was utilising."   
   
"Okay, but you're a touch telepath?"   
   
"I am. But our connection is now based on distance. As long as we're in close proximity to one another, we'll maintain that link. The Programmer, through the TARDIS, must be picking up on our link and drawing memories from it…" he trailed off.

Clever boy. It's a shame your link only shows me things about her. But, I'll take what I can get. Call this a blessing in disguise! 

Leave her out of this. The TARDIS belongs to me. 

Well, Clara Oswald is the only thing that’s on the telly at the moment…

I'm warning you… Meddling with the flux and fix of time relative to a person is dangerous. 

He waited for a retort, but nothing came. The Doctor hadn’t noticed Clara trying to grab his attention. She only had to look at his face contort in fury before it dawned on her that he was probably conversing with the Programmer. 

"What's he saying?" Clara prodded, yanking the Doctor out of his thoughts. They stopped dead in their tracks. The walls around them began to morph into Dalek architecture. He grabbed Clara's hand. 

"Close your eyes." 

She was already one step ahead of him and had closed them. The floor rumbled as if the depths of hell itself was opening up. Wherever they were, it looked as if the place was going to collapse. The Doctor's own voice rung through the Dalek tunnels. It seethed with pure hatred. Clara pulled away from the Doctor's grip and covered her ears. She quickly hummed a tune loudly. 

"Daleks! This will be the last time you EVER take someone from me! I should have done this a long time ago!" 

The Doctor blinked rapidly at the sound of his own shrewd voice being broadcasted. Before he could place where exactly they were, the ceiling started to cave in above them. The other Doctor continued to bellow. The Doctor spun around, remembering he had to guide his companion through the imminent chaos. Clara still had her eyes screwed shut and hands covering her ears. Just as the ceiling fell, he darted forwards and tackled her. The force behind his dive threw them across the floor, narrowly avoiding the carnage. The Doctor made sure he took the brunt of the fall, letting her land safely on top of him. Clara's eyes shot open, clearly startled. 

"I'm almost certain that the 'death in the sim' rules still apply."

Clara grimaced, "Well, that's definitely going to be a problem here."

"Listen, I don't think I can guide you safely through all this…" the Doctor wheezed. Clara strained her head around to see that rubble had now settled in the area they were idly standing at just moments before. 

"He's made it harder for me to avoid seeing all this. How about I just keep my eyes open briefly? I'll close them only if it's absolutely necessary." she offered as she carefully slid off of him. Fidgeting with his hands while he lay on the floor, he reluctantly nodded in agreement. 

Clara helped him up and watched with mild concern as the Time Lord dusted himself off, making some effort to conceal his pained expression caused by his earlier injuries. He stared warily at the ceiling above, "We need to try to find a way to leave the memory - like last time." 

Clara's hands shot up to cover her ears as the other Doctor came through the speakers once more. The anguish in his voice made the Doctor's insides twist in knots.

"She wasn't even meant to be here… She didn't have to die…"

The Doctor beckoned for Clara to follow him, and they ran through the crumbling dalekanium interior until they hit a t-intersection. To the left, a steel sliding door. To the right, another long tunnel. He pointed to the door, and Clara gave a 'why not?' shrug. The door slid open and they entered. The small, circular room offered only one exit, and contained rows and rows of monitors. All of them were displaying the same footage: Clara, surrounded by group of Daleks. A loud crash thundered outside the corridor from which they came. They quickly ran to the other side of the room to pass through the next door, but found that it did not budge. Another deep rumble. This time, it tore through the ceiling above them, creating cracks. Clara backtracked to the door they had entered to discover that the corridor had been blocked by rubble. She removed her hands from her ears as she spun around to face the Doctor.

"No way out." Clara sighed, continuing to ignore the many monitors now showing a close up of her terrified face. The Doctor, however, couldn't take it any longer. 

"Keep your eyes closed. I'm going to look for a way to get this door open." 

"Sonic it?" 

"It won't work in this type of simulation."

Clara was hesitant to close her eyes, but quickly shut them when the Daleks began to approach her on-screen counterpart. 

"You need me to help search too. I don’t think the roof can hold out any longer. We'll find it quicker if we search together." she informed the Time Lord as he desperately made his way around the room, trying to find the switch to the next door. 

"No." He said firmly. On screen, Clara began to run. 

No, no, don't run. 

The Doctor had already seen this in his head, among many other potential futures regarding Clara. He was used to it; it hardly bothered him seeing some of the different pathways time could take. However, the programmer chose the pathways that only ended in her death. And of course, today he was bothered. Very bothered, and very tired after the events of Sister Xeka and the hospital. He looked away from the monitor just as the Daleks screeched 'exterminate'. The monitors began to loop the footage, showing Clara once again frozen and surrounded by Daleks. 

"It's looping the footage..." The Doctor muttered to himself. Clara opened her eyes and darted to the other side of the room to check behind and on the monitors for any hidden switches. 

"Good. Tell me when I need to close my eyes again." Clara said as the monitors in front of her shook violently. A chunk of the roof fell into the middle of the room, exposing the bare, black sky. 

"I've got this, Clara, just keep your eyes closed." he reassured her. 

"Any moment that ceiling will come crashing down. I'll look until the bad bit comes up on the screen." she explained as she continued her search. She didn't bother turning around to look at him. 

"No. What if the monitor stops looping and shows something else? Stop helping, come here, and stay close."

"We'll die if I don't." 

"You'll die if you do." 

"So you'd rather we both die then?" Clara snapped. The Doctor didn't have time to retort as the ceiling near where he was searching caved in. He darted away, rolling to evade the falling metal and monitors. Glancing around, he saw that the monitors now showed Clara attempting to escape. Meanwhile, Clara was still frantically examining each monitor and panel behind it. 

"Eyes!" he yelled with the remaining breath he could muster.

Spinning around, she saw him crawling away from the rubble on the floor. Her eyes then flicked to the remaining monitors on the wall behind him, and realisation dawned. The Doctor didn't see if she had managed to close her eyes on time or not. More bits of metal came crashing down around them. The Doctor rolled to his side to avoid them, and spotted an exposed button just above where the floor and wall met. He scrambled over to it and punched it. A hiss came from the steel door as it slowly slid open. Adrenaline took over. The Doctor got to his feet and ran for Clara, who had no idea that the door opened since her eyes were squeezed tightly shut. With one hand around her waist and the other on her shoulder, he dragged her over to the door. The rest of the ceiling finally gave way, and they dove through the door. It slammed shut behind them as the roof finally merged with the floor. The pair found that they had landed back in the TARDIS corridor. 

Clara was the first to her feet, prompting the Doctor to interrogate her, "Did you see anything on the monitor?" 

"What? No. No, I didn't." Clara breathed heavily. She peered up and down the new corridor they were in. Its eerie red glow was unsettling, which was very unlike what she was used to when she usually traversed through the TARDIS. 

"Are you absolutely sure?" he asked, now struggling to even manage a sitting position as he followed her gaze. Which way to the console room? Perhaps finding a terminal in one of the rooms is a more viable option…

"Yes! Doctor, at this rate, the Programmer's going to have full control over the TARDIS if we don't get a move on." Remembering the Doctor's injuries, she went to help him up as he clearly struggled to find his footing. "Sorry." she quickly added. 

"Not full control… But mostly, yes." He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "I hate to say this, but I think we need to split up." said the Doctor dejectedly. Before she could argue, he cut in, "Besides covering more ground, I have a hunch that the further we are from one another, the weaker the link between us." 

"So no more future projections?" 

"I should think not. But, who knows what else he'll throw at us." The Doctor grimaced. How long had it been since the Programmer managed to hack into the architectural systems? How much had he accomplished since then?

"Doctor, I can handle myself, but I'm starting to get the feeling that he wants us separated," Clara tried with an exasperated expression, "Why else would he torment us with projections of my possible death if not to drive you away from me?" 

"He's just slowing us down - or trying to make me cave in to his demands. All we need to do is find a terminal in one of the rooms." The Doctor ignored her protests as he approached her. He reached up to place his fingertips on either side of her head. 

"What are you doing?"

"I'm sending you exactly what you need to do if you find a terminal. I just hope it's not too late for it…" 

"Doctor, this is a bad idea. You're injured, for God's sake! And the corridors won't move anymore - we could get lost." 

"Either its risk you seeing one of your many potential fates as we blindly stumble through these corridors, or split up and have a better chance at finding a terminal." the Doctor explained as he finished the file transfer and lowered his arms. He could see her eyebrows knit in frustration; he assumed she had a dozen more unsaid arguments and comments. "It's our only option. And I'll be fine, my injuries aren't that bad."

"They are bad. But, fine." she finally said with resignation. The Doctor gave her a sad smile, then reluctantly picked a direction and headed off. He suddenly stopped, and spun around to face her with a wiggling finger. 

"We'll find each other again - you can count on that. I'll always be able to find you, Clara, no matter where. You're very hard to miss." he noted with an encouraging wink. Clara chuckled, and gave a nod. With that, he continued walking, turning left at an intersection. It was only after the first 5 minutes of being separated that he knew he had made a grave mistake. Entering the maintenance sector of the TARDIS, an overhead display flared up. The Doctor scowled as the Gallifreyan symbols that alarmingly flashed morphed into the words: 

Divide and Conquer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey all! Thanks a bunch for reading! If you'd like to give me feedback, that'd be much appreciated! :)
> 
> P.S Hope the 2ish weeks between each chapter upload is alright (although I'll try to extend the length of each chapter). I have Uni and work to contend with while writing this fic. :(


	4. Divide and Conquer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and Clara reluctantly split up in an attempt to find a terminal faster and rehack the TARDIS.

_Keep trying, she must still be close enough to hear…_ Taking deep breaths, the Doctor focused solely on the faint buzz in the back of his head. All mental thought went into tapping into the faint link to try and contact Clara. His efforts were to no avail however, as he received no response from his companion. They must've been too far apart now. He cursed quietly as he continued searching around the photovoltaic transmutation plantation. This room was the fourth that he had entered in an attempt to find an internal systems terminal that he could use. The room itself was quite small; only containing the large transmutor in the centre and a row of processing machines hooked up to large cables. There were a few display monitors here and there, but none would allow him to access the internal systems mainframe. The Doctor grumbled, storming out of the room and back into the maintenance corridors. With each ticking second, he could feel the TARDIS stir, as if trying to shake off a growing cold. He needed to hurry.

 

_Just checking in. How are we doing? Are we having a happy time, Doctor?_ The Programmer sung gleefully in his head. The Doctor gritted his teeth; he needed to do something about that, too.

 

_What do you want now?_

 

_I just want to see how you're going? You must be pretty torn up about leaving poor Clara behind._

 

_She can handle herself just fine. So, let's just get straight to the point. If you continue this silly little game of yours, I'll have you know that -_

 

_Hell hath no fury like the Doctor when he's truly mad? I've read the stories, Doctor. I've done my research. Why do you think I'm still doing this? I would've turned tail by now if I didn't think myself capable of your wrath. You'll be pleased to know that I am very capable - that I have plans through A to Z type of capable. I won't stop until this machine is mine. I'm telling you this for your own good._ The Programmer jeered in his head.

 

_You'll be sorry you ever even laid eyes on the TARDIS._

 

_Hey-ho! Speaking of, I'm almost inside! Just give me a couple of minutes - not that you can stop me._

 

_I can only try._

 

_You try, and I go straight to a plan that brings your dear friend back into the game. Y'know, I separated you two for a reason. That will be the only kindness I show you today. Don't risk her for this silly little machine._

 

_You have no idea, do you? It's more than a machine. And separating us was not a kindness -_

 

_I understand perfectly, but the ultimatum still stands. I'll speak to you later, Doctor, I need to let myself inside my new home! Hope there's a housewarming gift ready for me…_

 

_Programmer? Programmer_! No response.

 

The Doctor groaned in frustration. The noise echoed through the corridor, amplifying his Scottish accent. Being vocal wouldn't help, so he decided to keep moving. Down the next corridor, he spotted only one door with a terminal next to it. Whether it was a slave terminal or a systems terminal, he was very keen to find out. The monitor sparked to life as he approached, and flashed a warning about the console room being breached.

 

_He actually got inside. I'm too late_ … The Doctor closed his eyes for a few moments. _No…_ _Think. Think!_ He then returned his gaze to the terminal, and typed on the keypad next to the monitor, dismissing the message. It brought him little joy that he could indeed bring up an internal systems terminal window. Staring at the monitor blankly, the gears in his head roared to life _. Maybe it's not too late…_ He began to type in a console command which brought up the TARDIS's telepathic readout. The Doctor selected the strongest readout, which evidently was his and Clara's link, and overrode the command to maintain the connection. The faint fuzzy feeling in the back of his head vanished. He grinned as he then backed out of the readout window and went to bring up the Schrodinger Protocol program to edit. Suddenly, the dim red glow of the corridor went out. The monitor, too, had died. Darkness engulfed him. He tried to reactivate the monitor with his sonic, but it did not wake. Some of the lights lazily came back on, now periodically flickering and dimming in and out. The monitor, however, never came back on _. No! This area is on reserve power now!? Is he redirecting the power_..? The Doctor knitted his eyebrows. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He was then quick to realise that someone had appeared beside him during the blackout.

 

"Doctor? Is everything alright?" a familiar voice asked. The Doctor, wide eyed, twirled around to see Clara. She wasn't surprised in the slightest to see him.

 

"Clara! We walked in opposite directions? You didn't follow me, did you?"

 

"Nope. Maybe the Programmer's rearranging the corridors to lead us back together." she reasoned with little interest. She was more focused on the terminal in front of him, and jabbed a finger towards it.

 

"Did you manage to rehack the TARDIS?"

 

"Well, no, but I managed to severe our telepathic link. The power went out before I could do anything more." he replied bitterly. His eyes now bored into hers. She seemed a little off. He couldn't help but wonder with dread what had happened to her while they had been separated.

 

"I got intentionally locked out of this room back the way I came. Maybe there's another terminal in there with power?" Clara suggested, and stalked down the corridor. The Doctor jogged to catch up with her.

 

"I got rid of the connection that was causing those projections?"

 

"Oh, right. That's great news, but we don't really have time to celebrate since the Programmer is already inside the TARDIS."        

 

"Take the wins where you can, I say..." The Doctor mumbled as he resorted to trailing behind her. The way she moved seemed quite calculated and quick, but he figured that she was trying to retrace her steps back to the locked room. She also didn't seem as talkative as she usually did, but again, he suspected that she was just tired.

 

"I forgot to shut down the telepathic connection that the TARDIS has with each of us." The Doctor tried. Clara didn't bother to look over her shoulder while she spoke.

 

"Yeah?"

 

"The Programmer will still be able to communicate with us individually… Has he spoken to you at all since we split up?"

 

"Nope. You?"

 

"Yes. He was making threats on your life." That stopped her dead in her tracks. He almost ran into her as she turned on her heel to properly address him.

 

"What did he say exactly?" Clara inquired. The Doctor shifted nervously, scratching the side of his face.

 

"Basically, hand over the TARDIS or you get it. The usual stuff, really."

 

"And I'm guessing you said no?"

 

"I avoided the question."

 

She took a step closer, looking at him very peculiarly. The Doctor glanced around, checking to see if the Programmer was watching from some monitoring device. He slowly reached into his jacket pocket.

 

"What would you have said though?" she asked in a hushed tone. He gave a theatrical shrug.

 

"Tough choice."

 

She suddenly leaned in, standing on her tip-toes to whisper into his ear, "Yeah, but what would you have said to me?"

 

The Doctor chuckled as Clara moved slightly back to scan his face intently. This time it was him leaning in to whisper.

 

"I think you'd know what I would say, Clara." he breathed. Clara grabbed the lapels of his jacket.

 

"Show me."

 

"With pleasure." he smirked as she went to kiss him. Before she could, however, the Doctor had already brought up the sonic screwdriver and activated it. The whirr of the sonic made Clara freeze. Her outline began to fizz uncontrollably, while her hands became less and less tangible on his jacket. Static flickered as her broken image slowly faded.

 

"Bringing out the sonic would have been a tad awkward if you were real." he snickered to himself, stuffing the screwdriver back into his pocket. "But in all seriousness, I know a hard-light hologram when I see one. Nice try, though."

 

The hologram merely blinked at him, before disappearing into thin air. The Doctor smacked his lips thoughtfully, before breaking out into a jog down the corridor. He could feel the floor under him rumble, as if he were back inside the previous Dalek simulation. _So he's inside…_ _What's his next move?_

 

XXX

 

The large metallic doors hissed open, revealing a large warehouse with rows upon rows of shelving. Clara wandered in, jumping at the doors behind her closing automatically. The large oval lights above flickered slightly, before blacking out.

 

"Seriously?" Clara muttered to herself as she tried to leave the way she came. The doors would not budge. She groaned, giving the door a bit of a kick before turning around and squinting through the darkness. Then, she took a couple of careful steps forward, feeling around for any unseen objects she could run into. A loud racket erupted in the distance, causing Clara to freeze. _That sounded like metal falling…_ She thought as it continued to echo around her. The lights returned, although to her dismay, they were much dimmer than before. Some of them also flickered rapidly, and others refused to even come back to life. Clara quietly edged over to the start of a nearby aisle, and peeked down it. Nothing interesting. She then tip-toed over to the next aisle - for fear of alerting whatever had caused the earlier racket. Again, nothing. It crossed her mind that she could now leave and try her luck at finding a terminal in the next room that she came by. However, there was bound to be at least a monitor here for stocktake purposes.

 

_Are we lost, Clara? Lost without the Doctor to guide you? To give you that sense of security while in foreign lands? To turn to when all is lost?_ The Programmer piped up, startling Clara. She would never be OK with having a voice besides hers in her head after being infected at the hospital. The memory of having to deal with the collective chatter of the Changelings in the Hive Mind gave her goose bumps.

 

_Are you quite finished?_ She hastily replied, hoping to wipe the sneer right off the man's face that she imagined he would have right now.

 

_I'm on a need to know basis! Anyway, listen, I've made the Doctor an offer, and I should probably let you in on it too. It's simple. You're spared, and I get the TARDIS. Thoughts?_

 

_If you want my thoughts, then tell me why you really want the TARDIS._

 

_I'm an augmented human, Clara. You'd never understand the need for more when you already have everything at your disposal. Eugh, that wasn't intended to sound brattish. It's harder to talk in your head, I realise. Ah well…_ The Programmer trailed off.

 

Clara decided to sneak down an aisle, passing copious amounts of wires of various colours, shapes and sizes bundled on the shelves on either side of her. It was difficult to maintain focus of her surroundings while mentally speaking.

 

_No, I think I'm beginning to understand._ She stopped before a junction, peering left and right. _I've come across too many people like you. Your actions are of desperation, not of the need for more. And this… this over-the-top joyful attitude… It's a façade. I'm right, aren't I? You're really not doing this just for a laugh._ Clara then took a right down a path between the aisles. She prayed she'd find a terminal soon, but probably should have been praying more for the thing that made the noise earlier to stay away.

 

_There are people out there who'd come to your home and stab you just because you were home. There are people without purpose. Do you know what they call such a person without purpose? A Saint._

 

_You think you're a Saint?_ Clara tried to sound disgusted in her head.

 

The Programmer didn't respond.

 

_Just tell me why? We can help you. The eyebrows may say otherwise, but the Doctor does a lot of good with this TARDIS. He also gives second chances where second chances are due_ , Clara mentally offered.

 

_You truly are a gem, Clara. However, I'm not looking for a second chance from you two. I came here with one and only one goal, and that is to have this time machine. It's practically mine now, anyway._

 

_Then I think your deal is rubbish, and that I'd gladly give my life if it meant you'd never set foot in the TARDIS._ Clara stopped suddenly, staring down an aisle. A figure lay limp on the floor. A monitor jutted out of the shelf nearby.

 

_I would say that you'll regret your choice… but you'll be too dead to even do that. Ta-ta! Speak soon!_

 

Clara glowered as she slowly made her way down the aisle. It was now a habit to look over her shoulder. When she finally got close enough to see who was on the floor, she broke out into a run. Ignoring the monitor, she skidded to the Doctor's side, heart beating out of her chest. She checked for a pulse. His wrists didn't feel as cold as they usually did, but there was no mistaking the two consecutive thuds against her fingers. His chest however, did not move. Clara slapped him on the cheeks lightly, and tried to shake him awake.

 

"Doctor? C'mon, wake up, please." pleaded Clara in an undertone. Another check up and down the aisle. Was the Doctor a victim of whatever was in the warehouse with them? The Doctor suddenly shot up to a sitting position, sharply inhaling. He blinked at his surroundings, before his eyes rested on Clara's worried face.

 

"Oh, it's just you."

 

"What do you mean 'just me'? Doctor, what's happened? Is there a… a thing in here with us?" Clara asked, unable to keep the panic out of her voice. She helped him to his feet, but, unlike the last couple of times, he seemed to have no troubles getting up.

 

"I didn't see it properly, but we need to get out of here. We need to go to the medbay… I have no idea what that thing did, but, uh, I feel a little… off." The Doctor said, rubbing the sides of his head. A pang of guilt hit Clara at the mention of the medbay. She was mainly the reason for his initial visit, after all.

 

"Of course. Let's go," Clara paused, turning to the monitor. "Wait, did you manage to get into that terminal?"

 

The Doctor shook his head, "The monitor wouldn't work after the blackout."

 

_One issue at a time. Can't have him passing out on me,_ she thought miserably.

 

"Don't worry, we'll keep an eye out for another. Let's just focus on getting you to the medbay."

 

"I managed to check the layout for this sector of the TARDIS. The medbay is nearby." The Doctor added quickly. Clara raised her eyebrows slightly. _I wonder if he's OK…_

 

"Great. Let's get moving then. Hopefully the Programmer doesn't decide to renovate…" Clara ushered him forward, "Lead the way."

 

The Doctor walked, a little too loudly, back towards the exit. Clara quickly pulled him aside.

 

"Oi! What are you doing?" Clara hissed, glancing up and down the aisle frantically. He cocked his head slightly at her.

 

"Walking?"

"Too loud, Doctor. Do you want whatever made you pass out to find us?" her tone was almost an exasperated one. _He's really not OK,_ she decided.

 

"Ah, yes. You're right." he was much quieter now, and they managed to reach the exit without any drama. As the doors slid open, Clara heaved a sigh of relief. She made a mental note to not go into that warehouse again if ever she decided to have a wander around the TARDIS.

 

With each new corridor they navigated, Clara felt more and more certain that they were lost. During their brisk walk, she had braced herself for another future projection - but none came. It was suspicious, but perhaps the Programmer was busy elsewhere, or knew they were lost. She then wondered why the Doctor wasn't very surprised to see her. Or, better yet, why he had so easily allowed her to accompany him to the medbay - not that she was going to let him go by himself in his frazzled state anyway.

 

"Doctor," she stopped before a T junction. The Doctor had already picked a direction and was about to press on. "are we lost?"

 

He looked back over his shoulder to reply, "Don't be ridiculous. The medbay is not much farther. Come on."

 

Clara didn't move.

 

"It's been ages, though. By the way, I've been meaning to ask about your bandages. You looked like you may have broken that healing layer thingy underneath them when you were rolling around in the Dalek simulation."

 

"I checked them before; it's fine." The Doctor dismissed, and proceeded down the new corridor.

 

"Show me." she insisted. He turned around, giving her a blank stare. It didn't take Clara long to close the gap between them. "You're acting so… weird... What do you even keep behind some of these doors? That thing in the warehouse really did a number on you."

 

"We're pressed for time, Clara." he said impatiently.

 

"No, we're lost. And just… I need to see, okay? You looked quite hurt before…" Clara begged. The Doctor looked down at his boots, contemplating her words.

 

"Be quick then." he sighed. No attempt was made on his behalf to undo the buttons. Supressing a groan, Clara moved closer to start unbuttoning. Much to her surprise, the Doctor's stony expression did not change when she finally opened the shirt. There were no bandages.

 

"Wh- what?" Clara stammered, ghosting her hand over where the deep wound used to be on his lower abdomen. "When did - " before she could finish, the Doctor had a firm grasp on both her shoulders.

 

"Your life depends on whether you continue to follow me or not. It would be in your best interest to stay with me until we reach the holding cells."

 

_No… Am I in a simulation?_

 

Clara ignored his warning as she tried to shake him off, "Where's the Doctor? What have you done with him?"

 

"He's right here," The Doctor stated, but his lips had not moved. It sounded as if he was distant. Without warning, the buzz of the sonic echoed through the corridors, and the man in front of her froze. Clara watched with bewilderment as his outline flashed rapidly. Then, he slowly became transparent, fading in and out of existence. Clara could see through the Doctor now, and saw what appeared to be the real Doctor a few feet behind the hologram. The brilliant green light of the sonic was aimed at her. The weight from the fake Doctor's hands on her shoulders evaporated. The hard-light hologram looked fixedly upon her, almost as if it was silently pleading, before disappearing from existence.

 

"Clara? Is that you?" The Doctor called a little breathlessly. He began to approach her. She swallowed, still reeling from the imposter that had vanished right in front of her eyes.

 

"No, no, no. You stay right where you are. How do I know you're not a trick too?"

 

"It's a two way road. How do I know you're not also a hologram? One that can withstand my jamming frequency, unlike that handsome fellow you were with?" he shot back. After a few careful steps, the man in front of her cringed slightly. A hand shot down to his stomach. He looked visibly exhausted as he tried to control his erratic breathing.  

 

"Just because you're now making a show of being hurt doesn't mean I'll believe you."

 

That stopped the Doctor in his tracks. He pondered for a moment, before snapping his fingers.

 

"How about this: holograms can't establish a telepathic link, so -" He tried but was cut off.

 

"Just stay away. You're not real! This… this isn't real!" Clara stumbled back, preparing to run.

 

"Wait! Clara," The Doctor paused, deciding whether he should continue or not. Clara had her body pivoted, but he still had her full attention, so continued, "you wanted to talk to me about the events of Christmas. It was in the hospital, remember? Well, talk to me now."

 

"Y-you can't be serious… This must be a future of mine…" Clara trailed off. The lights above them began to dim.

 

_I have to stay focused. Question everyth - no… Don't think that…_

 

"I severed the link between us through a terminal I found earlier. There won't be any more future projections. Although, the simulations I can't stop." The Doctor quickly confirmed, rubbing the back of his neck.

 

"Not helping your case."

 

"Fine, I'll talk to you then. After that night, when I came for you, I couldn’t sleep. I just couldn't. I couldn't quite believe that we'd made it out of the dream."

 

"Stop…" Clara looked away, tears welling in her eyes. So many nights wasted. Sleepless. Conflicted. Trying to convince herself she was awake, but often wishing that she was indeed still dreaming…

 

"You know why I didn't believe it? Because you were back in the TARDIS with me. A second chance! It was impossible! And it happened! So I went for days without sleep, trying every test known to prove I wasn’t still dreaming." The Doctor exclaimed. He took a couple of measured steps towards her. Clara thought for a split second that she saw shame cross his face. _It can't be_..? Clara shook her head sadly.

 

"Second chances aren't impossible for you. You just don't think you deserve them."

 

"There's a difference between thinking and knowing." his voice had softened slightly, causing Clara's heart to twinge.

 

"You really do, Doctor. You deserve happiness; everyone does. Alright, just…" he was now meters away from her, "Just wait there." She commanded. The Doctor finally obeyed, raising both hands in mock-surrender. Clara could practically feel the intensity of his gaze as he examined her face closely. This prompted her to rub away the tears that were dangerously close to rolling down her cheeks. She took a deep breath, then approached him slowly. Her eyes never dared to leave his. If any hint of ill-intent were to show, she would bolt. The Doctor's hands were still raised as she reached him, and she gave her silent approval for the telepathic link. His fingers moved to rest on the sides of her forehead. Immediately, Clara felt everything at once. The intense heat of Akhaten burning her skin as she turned to look at a woman holding out a very special leaf. The guilt that rippled through her veins when she stood face to face with the same woman, who looked young, but Clara knew somehow that she had aged considerably. The anger that boiled as hotly as the lava that surrounded them when the woman betrayed her in the blink of an eye. The primal fear that took over when the woman disappeared amongst a group of Changelings just as elevator doors obscured her view. Anger. Sadness. Hope. Guilt. Joy. Fear. Everything that a hologram could never truly replicate. The Doctor relayed one final message before removing his hands. He looked down at the visibly overwhelmed woman in front of him.

 

"Sorry for the overload. Just wanted you to be sure it was me." he remarked sheepishly. Wordlessly, Clara slipped her arms around the Doctor, trapping him in a gentle hug, "Two hugs in one day? You're pushing your luck, Teach."

 

Clara chuckled, "It feels like it's been days since I last hugged you. Maybe it's because I'm so tired… I'm really feeling it now. You must be too, huh?"

 

"Well, let's just say I've gained a whole new appreciation for the TARDIS architectural reconfiguration system, and leave it at that." The Doctor replied weakly. Clara released him, and glanced up and down the TARDIS corridor.

 

"It's too risky splitting up again..." Clara pointed out.

 

"And time isn't on our side."

 

"Plan?"

 

"Play the game. Hopefully, we can -" The Doctor was cut off abruptly.

 

"Attention all guests: You are cordially invited to the console room - a housewarming party is in order!"

 

"Wait, now he wants us to come to him? He seemed pretty adamant about keeping us away from the console room a minute ago. Talk about mixed signals…" Clara blurted in disbelief. The Doctor's eyes however had widened considerably. A small smirk managed to seep through his stern Scottish features.

 

"Ah. He must need us for something. Well, Programmer? What is it you want?" The Doctor spoke with renewed confidence.

 

"It's a little embarrassing, to be quite honest. I need you, Doctor, for this thing. I thought I could do it without directly involving you, but… I simply can't. You're still offering to help me, right Clara? Then help me. Both of you are welcome to join me in the console room. You won't be met with resistance. Come, and we'll talk." The Programmer explained hastily.

 

"That doesn't sound suspicious at all." The Doctor said, narrowing his eyes. Clara was still dumbfounded at the Programmer's abrupt change from hostility to sincerity.

 

"'New plan: Be nice to them.' Have we ever gone up against someone who's tried that?" Clara jested. The Doctor spun around to face her, arching an eyebrow.

 

"Now that you mention it… I'm not entirely sure? Actually, there was that time when -"

 

"I'm still here? It's either you come willingly, or I make you." The Programmer interrupted.

 

The Doctor folded his arms. A smug smile was plastered onto his face, "So far, 'making us' hasn't worked out for you."  

 

"That sounded like an invitation!" The man bellowed through the speakers, "My offer still stands, by the way. Clara or the TARDIS? The TARDIS or Clara? Stay tuned, folks, we'll have an answer right after the break!"

 

The speaker cut out, allowing Clara and the Doctor to hear a strange droning sound. Loud pops suddenly crackled around them, and translucent figures began to emerge from thin air. They solidified, and began to swarm their startled prey. Clara gawked at the holographic men and women who looked as if they were already murdering her in their heads. It was uncanny. Clara found herself face to face with multiple holograms of herself and the Doctor.  


	5. Trace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and Clara find themselves on the back foot as they are hunted by holographic copies of themselves.

_The man watched with amusement as two young children zipped past him on the footpath with what he assumed to be their new graviblades._

 

_"Kids. They're always speeding off to their next adventure." The man chuckled. The pair had been strolling through the city's last natural park, keeping an eye out for a free bench to sit on and eat their late lunch. The synthetic parks, he felt, just didn't give him that same refreshed and pure feeling._

 

_"Sort of like us, really. We've had quite a day, which I should thank you for, by the way." His companion observed, beaming widely at him._

 

_"Nonsense. It's my pleasure. Also, the day hasn't quite finished yet. I've found a neat little retro cinema downtown that I think you'd particularly enjoy. We can go tonight if you'd like."_

 

_"Yes! I'd love to! Wow, you’re full of surprises today… It's really going to be tough deciding what the highlight of the day will be." she said excitedly. Up ahead, they finally spotted a vacant bench and awkwardly jogged over to it. Side by side, they sat down and began to pick at their food in comfortable silence. After a few minutes, she turned to him._

 

_"Hey, this might sound like a random question, but… Do you reckon there's such thing as happily ever after?"_

 

_The man arched an eyebrow, eyes now boring into hers, "A better question is: Do you think that?"_

 

_She smiled, her attention drifting to the magnificent tree that towered across from them, "Yeah, yeah I do."_

 

_"Why do you think so?" he asked, following her gaze. He noted the fallen leaves that began to pile at the base of the trunk._

 

_"Well, if whatever makes you truly happy manages to outlive you, then I guess that fits the bill." she explained._

 

_"But what about the other things in life that bring you down? That'd surely put a damper on things."_

 

_She shook her head, "No, no. This thing would far outshine those darker parts of life."_

 

_"I see. I guess then it would depend on the thing in question. If it were a person, I'd say no." said the man. Her eyes quickly shot back to him._

 

_"Why?"_

 

_He began to fidget with the remains of his food, "Because… Well… In the last few moments of your life, you’d know you were leaving that person behind with that darkness."_

 

_She slowly nodded her head in understanding, chuckling slightly, "Good point. So I guess you’d have to go hand in hand for it to be a classic fairy-tale ending, huh?"_

 

XXX

 

The pair had both spotted the gap between the advancing holograms, but the Doctor was the first to react. He quickly snatched Clara's hand. They charged through, narrowly dodging what appeared to be electricity violently lashing out from their hands. Clara chanced a look behind her. The bloodthirsty copies of themselves were already in pursuit. The sound of crackling electricity was getting closer and closer by the second.

 

"Doctor?" Clara warned as they tore down the corridor.

 

"Just. Gotta. Lose them!" The Doctor heaved between irregular breaths. Taking sudden turns whenever they could, they managed to put some distance between themselves and their pursuers. Clara thanked her lucky stars when they darted into a nearby room and stopped. The door slid shut. _How long can he keep going in his state? And we're probably running straight towards the console room…_ Clara thought with dread as she watched the Doctor support himself against a nearby wall. His eyes were shut tight. Clearly, he was in pain, but he wasn't going to admit it to her. As much as she wanted to go over to him, she remained frozen to the wall adjacent to the door. They both held their breath and waited. No electricity or footsteps echoed outside. _Did they even have footsteps?_ Clara tried to remember if they did when she was with the fake Doctor. A couple of minutes passed before the Doctor gave Clara a curt nod. She quietly crossed the distance between them, realising just how small the room was. A metallic locker stood to the left of the entrance, and to the right was a large machine - to which Clara hadn't a clue what it was for. Another door beckoned at the far side of the room.

 

"Are you okay? You look like you're in a lot of pain." Clara asked worriedly. The Doctor smiled weakly at her.

 

"Nothing a minute's rest won't fix. Adrenaline should kick in again soon."

 

"Doctor, you can't… You can't just keep running."

 

"That electricity you saw coming out of their hands? It's amped up just enough to deliver a temporary shutdown of the nervous system. We'd be unconscious, and ready to be delivered to the Programmer. Running is the only thing we can do at the moment." The Doctor sighed, shifting off the wall and dragging himself over to the other door. Clara followed closely behind.

 

"I'm not going to ask how you know that…" Clara grimaced, before huffing, "But I should rephrase: _We_ can't keep running. The Programmer's clever. He's probably been trying to rearrange the corridors so we end up running towards the console room."

 

"Oh, I'm sure he is. There's no doubt about that." The Doctor remarked, activating a touchpad next to the door. A green light flashed, and the door slid open, revealing an enormous water plantation. Huge cylindrical tanks lined the far wall, and see-through pipes criss-crossed in all directions above them. More machines and consoles were scattered across the plantation floor. There were terminals everywhere. Clara also spotted four more doors - four potential escape routes, should they need it.

 

"That's why we're in here. Hopefully I can still get into the TARDIS mainframe…" the Doctor mumbled to himself. A few steps forward, and he had to catch himself on a nearby machine. Clara raced over to him, offering herself as a support. He reluctantly put an arm over her shoulder, and allowed her to slip an arm around his waist. Together, they slowly limped further into the facility.

 

"There's got to be an emergency medical kit here, right?" Clara suddenly said, peering around the empty room.

 

The Doctor blinked rapidly, then pointed over to a large container nearby, "Actually, there may be one in there."

 

They staggered over to it, and Clara let the Doctor go. The container was already open, and was filled with various tools and gadgets. Rummaging around, Clara came across a small grey container with a white Gallifreyan symbol. She held it up over her shoulder.

 

"That's it. Bring it over. I'll have to open it." He said. Clara passed the box to him, and he ran his finger over the symbol. A loud click, and the lid cracked in half. Inside were the various Gallifreyan medical supplies that Clara had come to recognise over the past couple of years. The Doctor grabbed a cylindrical device which was already filled with a fine, blue liquid.

 

"It's a shame the Programmer didn't decide to attack us an hour later than he did. The healing patches would have mended the cuts by then. Until we pay another visit to the medbay, this'll have to do for now." he explained, checking the device thoroughly. Clara wasn't exactly sure how it worked, but she knew it functioned similarly to injection – somehow without the needle. The blue pressurised substance provided instant pain relief, but didn't quite solve the problem at hand. Clara knew the pain would come back in even larger waves the longer he delayed proper treatment. She went to help undo the bandages around his waist, but froze when a familiar sickening voice creeped into her head.

 

_2 minutes. I'll give you two 2 minutes, then I'll send the retrievers in. I'll say when the countdown starts, so don't worry. Such easy prey, though. Honestly, I'm enjoying this too much to conclude the chase now! And Clara, props to you, you were so right! Even if I don't catch you two, you're only running head on towards your predator._ The Programmer jeered, it seemed, only to Clara as the Doctor readied the device over his lower abdomen without missing a beat. His finger hovered over the button for a moment. He slowly pressed it. Air quickly hissed out, and the Doctor's face contorted in agony. His teeth remained gritted even after he had removed the device from his skin. His eyebrows however, slightly lifted upon spotting the small metal piping lined on a nearby wall.

 

_You're disgusting,_ Clara mentally replied. The Doctor took a few deep, steady breaths, keeping a hand over the wound.

 

_And you're beginning to bore me. C'mon, be the Clara Oswald that I've read so much about! The one that seems to be everywhere at the same time, always doing something slightly… impossible._

 

_Anyone can research a person - it's hardly impressive._

 

_I agree. Hardly worth my talents. However, it's a little disheartening to meet someone who appears to be quite interesting, but is really only the opposite the more you talk to them._

 

_Good thing you weren't that interesting to begin with,_ Clara bit. She watched as the Doctor began to redo his bandages.

 

_You're right. I was quite boring to start with - but not when I met you two. No, no. I'm much more interesting now. How things have changed!_

 

_And why did they change?_

 

_We owe the universe nothing, Clara. We don't need to abide by its rules. The sooner you realise it, the better._

 

_You're going to have to tread very carefully if you think like that._ Clara advised him.

 

_Rules only hold us back. Restrict us. Make us docile creatures. The rules don't apply when you have what was, what is, and what will be, right in the palm of your hand!_

 

_They especially apply to the TARDIS! How are you this deluded? I thought you did your research?_

 

_You're just as blind as the Doctor, it seems. A shame... Oh well, let's make this a bit more interesting. Let's cut it down to a minute. Ding, ding! Your time starts now! Have fun!_

 

She returned her attention back to the Doctor, who had his eyes closed.

 

"Doctor, the Programmer's just told me we have around a minute before the holograms come again. How do you feel?"

 

"Better. Let's get moving - I think I have a solution to our little hologram problem." he opened his eyes and beckoned her to follow him to the piping. Withdrawing the sonic, the Doctor aimed it at the junctions of the pipes. They loosened, and he yanked one off and passed it to Clara.

 

"Are we doing what I think we're doing..?" Clara asked uneasily. The Doctor smiled almost devilishly as he pulled off another long pipe and brandished it like a baseball bat.

 

"Temporal displacement of the hololight particles will keep them at bay and buy us time to find a terminal. Basically: swing as hard as you can so they break."

 

"I hope this works... Alright, lead the way." Clara held up her own pipe, readying herself. As if on cue, the familiar hair-raising crackling sound started up. Clara and the Doctor were already weaving between machinery towards one of the doors as the holograms flashed into existence once more. Two very angry-looking Doctors blocked the path ahead, so the Doctor raised his pipe. With a single swing, the pipe seemed to go straight through the two of them. It was as if the Doctor had sliced the holograms in half, as there was a gap where the pipe had connected. The holograms twitched as particles began to fly upwards to regroup and redisperse the broken image. The Doctor charged through their fading outlines, and Clara quickly followed. A few more swings were made before they reached the door. It slid open, and the pair darted through. They had entered a room with large catwalks crossing in different sections. Underneath their feet was a large body of water, submerging the entire floor. Above, large spiral wind turbines rapidly spun.

 

"I don't think we're going to find a terminal in here, Doctor!" Clara called to him as he made his way to the intersection of two nearby catwalks. Clara wobbled slightly, realising there were no rails to stop her from tumbling down into the dark liquid below. She carefully walked over to where he stood, puzzled at his decision to pick this room out of the four. He peered over the side of the catwalk, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

 

"Bear with me. I have a plan, but -" The Doctor stopped as more holograms burst into life on either side of the catwalk - essentially cutting their exits off. One of the Clara holograms launched herself at Clara. Caught off guard, she almost stumbled off the catwalk as she swung the pipe upwards, slicing through the hololight particles. For a few seconds they stood their ground. Clara quickly became aware that for every hologram they destroyed, another instantly appeared in its place - angrier and even more determined than before _. Surely the Doctor has noticed this too_ … Clara hoped as she took a quick swipe at one of the Doctor's holograms.

 

"Clara, we're going to jump. You're going to have to swim as fast as you can, too." The Doctor panted between swings _._

 

"Okay, you sound a bit worried… Don't. I won't leave your side."

 

"It's not just that… It's… How long can you hold your breath?"

 

_Oh…_

 

"Don't worry about me. Just get on with it!" Clara exclaimed, narrowly avoiding the deadly electricity that shot through the air beside her. They were now overwhelmed. Knowing this, the Doctor suddenly dropped his pipe, and launched himself over the edge. Clara followed suit, flinging herself over the catwalk in his wake. The liquid quickly rose to meet her, and she plunged deep into the dark water. Water rippled to her left. The Doctor was now beside her, jabbing a finger down towards a pipe with a mechanised flap. She gave him a quick thumbs up, then glanced above them. Just barely, Clara could see the distorted shapes of the holograms above water. The two swam towards the pipe, and the Doctor held out his sonic screwdriver. Without warning, disorienting lights flashed only a metre above their heads. The holograms reappeared, and now had the eerie appearance of floating underwater. Clara had to stop herself from gasping. The Doctor managed to get the flap open by the time he realised what had happened. Their fake counterparts drifted closer and closer, hands raised.

 

_Electricity and water don't mix_!

 

Clara flailed towards the now open pipe and entered the pitch black inlet. The flap quickly closed behind her _. Did the Doctor make it through? I didn't see him? Where am I going from here?_ Her throat began to tighten as she continued blindly forward. A churning sound erupted around her. Suddenly, she was being dragged forward against her will. The churning picked up rapidly. She would be lost under the violent current that propelled her forwards at this rate. Reaching out to try and grab a hold of something, her hand broke water. _Air!_ She twisted her head to find where her hand had reached, but found that it had quickly disappeared. Her lungs were now screaming. The occasional red light began to flash around her as she floundered forwards, granting her a view of her watery grave. At least now she could see where the pockets of air would pop up. The water that sloshed and flushed around her started to warm up considerably. This wasn't like the simulation earlier. She couldn't breathe. This was real. Very real. She couldn't take it anymore. She had to breathe. She guessed she only had a few precious seconds left when she saw a brilliant orange glow…

 

XXX

 

The Doctor tumbled forwards, still clutching his sonic for dear life. The emergency transfer of coolant that he had triggered caused the sudden massive ejection of water. They were being rushed, hopefully, to where he wanted to go, but needed to time their exit to the millisecond. Otherwise, they'd miss their stop. Being continually dragged around the TARDIS cooling system until they drowned wasn't a thought he wanted to have at this very moment _. Just a little longer Clara._ He tried not to worry, and instead focused on the now flashing red lights that flickered around him. The temperature of the water began to increase, confirming their destination. The material of the piping changed, and the Doctor could now see through. Above him, a contained dying star flared viciously. The pipe quickly dipped, descending down to the guts of the complex. There, it began to run parallel with numerous other pipes, all containing the water needed to prevent critical overheating. The Doctor looked above him to see Clara being tossed and dragged. Judging on the distance between them, he figured that the evac hatch should stay open long enough for the both of them to be ejected. The Doctor did a quick mental calculation, then readied his sonic. The pipes were now flowing inches from the ground. Further ahead, he spotted a bright yellow switch on the outside of the pipe. Beside the switch was the evac hatch. It approached rapidly, and the Doctor activated the sonic, pointing it straight at the switch. It flipped. Loud sirens blared as the hatch opened up. Water cascaded out onto the ground, and the Doctor found himself spat out of the pipe. He skidded along the floor with the flowing water, coming to a stop a few meters away. Quickly twisting around, he saw his companion approach the hatch. She, too, was sucked through. The hatch quickly closed as Clara was flung across the floor. The alarm still rang around them. The Doctor scrambled to his feet, trudging unsteadily through the spilled water towards her. He called her name, but got no response. _No…_ His hearts were going a mile a minute by the time he reached her. She lay sprawled on her stomach, spluttering and coughing out water. Her face was quite pale. The Doctor let out a small sigh of relief.

 

_Now where did you two go? I guess flushing you out into the corridor wasn't the best of plans… Heh._ The Doctor ignored him as he reached the drenched woman and helped her to a sitting position. The evac hatch alarm finally switched off. He silently prayed that the Programmer wasn't notified of a foreign particle ejection in the piping systems.

 

"You okay?" he asked, running a shaky hand through his sodden hair. Just how close had she come to drowning? He decided that he did not want to know. There was enough to think about for the time being. The Time Lord slumped on the floor in front of Clara as she composed herself.

 

"Y-yeah. I think so. You?"

 

"I could be better."

 

"God, how many times have we asked each other that today?" she lazily grinned, brushing her damp fringe out of her face. He was glad to see that some colour had returned to her face. A brief smile flitted across his lips.

 

"Too many times. We should -"

 

_Reply, dammit! And just why aren't you two coming up on the thermal or carbon scanners?! I know you both didn't drown in there. I can still hear your panicked thoughts. Just poke your head out from your hidey-hole so I can at least catch a glimpse of your mugs on the visual monitor!_

 

Clara looked at him expectantly, indicating that she too had heard what the Programmer was saying. The Doctor pointed upwards, "You probably remember the dying star above us."

 

"How could I forget?" she narrowed her eyes at him playfully. The Doctor snorted, then continued.

 

"He won't be able to pick up two small heat signatures near something like that. Since it's dying, there's also no more hydrogen, meaning mass fusion of helium into carbon," The Doctor snickered, "It's a shame the fellow can't hear me when I talk aloud. He's really missing out on the best bits."

 

"Do we really want to push our luck?" Clara warned. The Doctor merely shrugged. They both stood up, adjusting the clothes that were plastered to their skin.

 

_Please talk to me. Or at least surprise me and come to the console room. It's getting lonely here. Clara's not replying either. Her brain waves went all fuzzy there for a second. You may want to check on that, by the way._

 

"You know what I don't understand? I never thought I'd hear myself say that… Anyway, who in their right mind would want infinite knowledge? You can only have so much before it becomes a burden. On all accounts! Why do you think all the pudding brains are happy? Who wouldn't want to be happy?" The Doctor emphasised the last bit as he bunched up the front of his shirt, squeezing it dry.

 

"I'm not entirely convinced that's what he's after. The times I've spoken to him… There were brief moments where he just seemed… lost? I suppose?" Clara tried to explain as she combed her wet hair back behind her ears.

 

"We'll soon see. Also, the power... He's redirecting it, I assume, outside of the TARDIS… Wherever that may be."

 

"So we're not on the roof of the hospital anymore?" Clara knitted her eyebrows, trying to remember whether they had set a destination before they were thrown into the Schrodinger Protocol simulation.

 

"I don't think so," The Doctor gazed upwards at the bright orange orb above that bathed them and their surroundings in an orange tinge. "I think it's time we face him, Clara."

 

"Did the trip down the pipe scramble your brain? The second you walk in, he'll have whatever you've been keeping from him. He won't hesitate once he has you. Right now he's just enjoying the chase."

 

"We have to try. I worry the longer we delay, the worse it'll be. He's drained a considerable amount of power already, and is quickly gaining full control of the TARDIS. Talking usually works, but it'll be on our own terms. Not his. Now that we have a breather and aren't being spied on, I think we can arrange for that."

 

"Oooh. What do you have in mind?" Clara asked animatedly. The Doctor returned his gaze to her, clearly not exhibiting the same excitement that she had.

 

"The Schrodinger Protocol. He mentioned that it was outside of the firewall, meaning that - if he hasn't moved it - we can access it without alerting him. We can alter the code too."

 

"Wow, getting flushed down the pipe really did do a number on you. So, basically do what he did to us?" Clara tried to supress a laugh.

 

"Exactly! One slight change however: I'm going to remove the safety net that allows one to exit the program prematurely."

 

"That's a good thing, right? That means no matter what, he'll end up in the holding cell?" Clara wondered why he didn't look as jovial now that they had a chance to end this.

 

"Or die." The Doctor added gravely. Clara nodded slowly, looking away for a brief moment to contemplate his words.

 

"It's our only option at the moment," Clara reassured him, "and too much is at stake."

 

"Agreed. Right, we better hurry." The Time Lord said, and began to cross the floor. A cluster of thick pipes that split into even smaller pipes was where he was headed. They shot upwards and into various slots in the walls leading up to where the dying star was in stasis. The console beside these pipes that listed the respective pressures and temperatures of the coolant systems would suffice. He made quick work of retrieving the Schrodinger Protocol file. Lines and lines of Gallifreyen code appeared before his eyes. Clara popped up beside him, watching in awe at the speed his fingers moved at as he altered the very thing that got them stuck in this mess in the first place. He brought up the console room on the display, fashioning the code so it would implement only in that sector of the TARDIS. The Doctor's hand hovered over the initiate function. He gave Clara a quick look, before proceeding to activate the program. The screen froze. Lines and lines of code poured down the screen. Amongst the Gallifreyan symbols, an encryption flashed.

 

_No… Why is it doing that here..? I made sure -_

 

A sentence rearranged itself:

 

**SCHRODINGER PROTOCOL INITIATED**

 

The Doctor backed away hastily from the console. Clara's puzzled look quickly turned to panic as she swayed on her feet. He tried to call out to her, but could not find his voice. He, too, started to see the room spin and morph into an environment randomly generated for victims of the protocol. The Doctor dropped to a knee, trying to focus. He realised that the memory wipe that usually kicked in at this point was malfunctioning. It instead caused dizziness. A loud thump next to him brought him down to both knees. The Doctor guessed it was Clara succumbing to unconsciousness. Groggily, he tried raising his arms to catch himself as he fell forwards. The Doctor was out like a light before he hit the floor.

 


	6. A Walk Between the Raindrops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dragged once more into the Schrodinger Protocol, the Doctor and Clara are nearing their limits - physically and mentally - as a final confrontation lingers on the horizon.

The Doctor woke to a ringing phone. A phone? His phone? He slowly got up off the wet pavement and reached into his pocket. The phone read no caller ID, only fuelling his temptation to answer it. He quickly glanced around, remembering his predicament. They was back inside the simulation, and Clara was nowhere in sight. The street he found himself on surprisingly teemed with life. The two suns in the sky beamed brightly overhead, and people pushed past him in a rush to an unknown destination. He watched a pair of hovercars tearing down the road. It was a surprisingly cheery place, with all things considered. He decided to hit the accept button.

 

"Hello?"

 

"Wow, has this backfired spectacularly on you! Did you really think I'd just leave the battering ram unattended outside of the castle walls once I'd gotten in?"

 

"How are you communicating with me?"

 

"Really? I'm still plugged into the TARDIS! Come on, first Clara and now you?"

 

"So you can still edit the code whilst inside the program?" The Doctor ignored him, trying not to sound impressed. Never in a million years would he have considered an augmented human - who was plugged into the TARDIS - something he'd have to accommodate for whilst writing the program. He shook the thought off. It was time to focus on weeding information out of his boasting opponent. 

 

"Pretty much. Any major functional changes would be quite risky to do. Aesthetically, however -"

 

"So no escaping?"

 

"No escaping." The Programmer echoed, annoyance seeping into his tone, "You were quick too - I'll give you that. Left poor little old me no time to stop the program. So I decided if I'm to be stuck in here, then I'm dragging you two in with me."

 

"You never said what you needed from me? Surely you can pilot the TARDIS by now?"

 

"Ah, now, that would spoil the surprise! I just need one tinsy, winsy little thing, then I'm set! Are you offering to surrender your mind to me? You'll have to come find me for that."

 

"I've corrected the code that causes immediate termination of the protocol." The Doctor informed him, hoping that perhaps the Programmer would reveal another way out of the simulation.

 

"I didn't realise you had such a bug that caused premature termination. I would've fixed that little problem for you if I knew! Oh well. If you won't come quietly, then it boils down to death or the holding cells. So which will it be? Who wants to take one for the team?" the Programmer jested. The Doctor quickly hung up. He wasn't going to have that conversation with him. The phone rang again. He stuffed the iPhone back into his pocket and decided to study his surroundings more carefully. Movement had to be kept to an absolute minimum. He just had to make sure it wasn't him or Clara that ended up terminating the program.

 

_Clara… Where is she?_

 

The Doctor peered up and down the street. Without warning, a man suddenly ran into him, causing him to stagger back slightly. The man pressed on, oblivious to the fact that he had bumped into someone.  Spinning around to glare at the pedestrian, the Doctor briefly caught a glimpse of himself in one of the windows. He had to do a double take, as he did not recognise who he saw. The person that stared back in shock did not have grey hair, nor menacing eyebrows. Instead, he had short, black hair and placid brown eyes. The look was complimented with a smart suit and tie. The Doctor quickly realised that he was dressed quite similarly to the pedestrians that hurried past. His hand shot up to his face to feel the skin. It still felt coarse, as it usually did, but had the appearance of someone much younger.

 

_A holodisguise then? How did -_ His thoughts were interrupted when random areas of the window fractured statically. For a split second, his actual face squinted back at him.

 

_The simulation is malfunctioning? Could it be because of the confusion the Programmer has caused from being plugged into the TARDIS whilst in the simulation? I could probably use that somehow…_ The Doctor turned away from the stranger who reappeared in the window. A thought suddenly struck him. _How will I find Clara if she too has a holodisguise?_ Upon watching the masses of people along the street, he figured it wouldn’t be too difficult. No one seemed to be stationary - even for a second. Another person bumped into him, causing him to shuffle forward. His phone buzzed again, but this time it was a short alert tone. The Doctor pulled it out to see he had a message from a random jumble of numbers. The message read:

 

_Already sick of the waiting game. This is your last chance to take my deal. Find me, or start running, Doctor… because I will kill her. XX_

 

Loud popping sounds rang almost deafeningly throughout the street. The strangers around him immediately burst into a flurry of panic, fleeing from the direction the sinister noise came from. Collective screams and rumblings from the crowd quickly drowned out the sound of the gunshots. The Doctor was forced along the street, shoved forwards by the frightened computer entities. Amongst the chaos, he spotted an older woman with long platinum blonde hair stand still in confusion. She was the only other person, besides himself, trying to remain motionless. He craned his head around to see how close the shooter was, before pushing his way over to the woman.

 

"Clara! Is that you? It's me! Listen, the Programmer's using a holodisguise. It's being applied to us, too." He exclaimed, battling over the loud racket around them. The woman opened her mouth slightly, staring in bewilderment at his face.

 

"Doctor? Yeah, it's me. Why are we in the simulation again!?" she cried. He grabbed her hand to usher her in the direction everyone else was headed. Blending in was now paramount, especially if those bullets were aimed at the people who weren't moving much.

 

"The Programmer still has some control of the TARDIS systems in here. He dragged us in as he was being pulled into the protocol. Has he contacted you at all, by the way?" The Doctor quickly inquired. Before she could answer, their disguises glitched, revealing their true faces for a few seconds. 

 

"Oh no. Why are the disguises glitching?"

 

"The protocol's malfunctioning. It mustn't happen again if we're near him. He's going to kill you if he finds you."

 

"Yeah, he told me. What else is new..?" her attention drifted to the large metal arches that now bridged over the road.

 

"Clara, I won't let that happen. C'mon, as long as we're hidden we'll be fine. We just have to make sure he's the one who ends up in the holding cell." he gave her a reassuring squeeze of the hand, which caught her off guard.

 

_It'll be a lot more difficult getting the Programmer to terminate the program if he's practically controlling_ it _…_

 

Twisting around, he witnessed the crowd behind him slowly dissipating into the nearby alleyways. To his horror, he discovered that they were resetting to their original datum position within the program - ready to repeat the process again if necessary _. That'll leave us in the open…_ The Doctor realised, and dragged Clara off towards a nearby alley entrance. They passed a couple of broken holoposters displaying various films on the wall before rounding the building. The pair were met with a line of people, each patiently waiting to move forwards to one of the many CPU reset points presumably set up in each alley.

 

"He'll check each alley to see who's left. And if we run…" said Clara, a little defeated. The Doctor poked his head out from behind the wall. The lone gunman stalked down the middle of the street. A revolver was clutched tightly in his hand. The Programmer wore a similar suit and tie, and had a young visage. It slightly bothered the Doctor that he was disguised almost identically to the man who was relentlessly hunting them. It also annoyed him that he still wouldn't see the Programmer's true identity. He ducked back into the alley, spotting Clara failing to move past the invisible barrier that everyone else had disappeared through. 

 

"Doctor! Please send out Clara or yourself. Or, someone start running. Actually, no. It'd be quicker if one of you surrendered. Come on! I'm starting to lose patience!" The Programmer yelled as he fired upwards in the air. Since most of the crowd had disappeared, the area was rather quiet - making the bullet sound all the more menacing. He was getting closer and closer to their alley. _No choice now._

 

"Clara, stay out of sight. I'll be back soon." The Doctor ordered, and went to step out onto the street to confront him. He was abruptly stopped by Clara tightly grasping his arm. 

 

"If you go out there, he gets what he wants from you. If we run, we end up at the holding cells. He still gets what he wants. We'll only keep digging ourselves deeper into this, no matter what we try to do. We can't win this together."

 

"Don't start thinking like that. I understand that we're both at our limits, but we'll find a way."

 

"There is a way, and you're not gonna like it one bit."   

 

"Clara," The Doctor began, aware of where she was headed.

 

"No, listen. If I get you both out of the protocol, then you'll be free to fight him. He'll have no leverage over you anymore." Clara explained, giving him a resigned look.

 

"Absolutely not! Just stay here. You're not to move. Whatever it is he wants, he can have. It’s not worth it." He was adamant as he glared back towards the street. _How far away is he?_

 

"Doctor, my life isn't worth a maniac having free roam of all of time and space. He's not going to stop fighting. You'll tire out before he does, and the pain from your injuries will return, and -"

 

"I'll endure it. And I'll endure even more before I let you throw away your life. We'll figure it out."

 

"Right now, time isn't our friend. This is the only way. I won't hold you back any longer." Clara let go of his arm and went to step around him. Before he could continue to protest, the Programmer piped up.

 

"I can hear you two bickering, you know. How about I make the choice for you? I'll corner you two like -" The Programmer's words died as they reached his lips. Judging by the increasing volume of his voice, the Doctor placed him just outside the entrance to the alleyway, near the posters. "W-what? Why are we here? How did you -? No… NO!" The Programmer howled. Suddenly, the walls surrounding them disintegrated, and the Doctor felt himself sway on his feet.

 

_The environment is changing..?_

 

Clara gave the Doctor a bemused expression, before stumbling forwards. He quickly followed her to the floor.

 

XXX

 

A different world came back into focus, and the Doctor found himself on a bench facing a London Underground sign. The sign was quickly hidden from view when a train whizzed past. It abruptly came to a halt. The Doctor looked up and down the platform, noting how there weren't many people present. He was also surprised to find that his memory had not been wiped since changing environments. Standing up, the Doctor struggled to remember whether he had programmed the simulation to register a moving train as footsteps. Only a couple of people remained on the platform as the train rang for a final call. The Doctor reluctantly stepped onto the train and took a seat. The passengers on the train were either idly sitting, reading on their phones, or quietly chatting to their neighbour. The train pulled forwards, and the Doctor faintly caught his reflection through the darkened window. There was a difference face - with blue eyes and blonde buzzed hair. He looked away and pulled out his phone. Another message flashed on the lock screen:

 

_I know, I promised a quick finale. I apologise for the delay._

 

_You seemed upset? Would you like to talk about it_? The Doctor wrote back. He quickly switched his phone onto silent so as to not alert the Programmer if he was lurking nearby. _Was his outburst the cause of the simulation changeup? He's already overloading the protocol…_ The Doctor wondered as he waited for a reply. Agitating him and keeping him moving was the only feasible option. He hoped that Clara was not still determined to give herself up. He just had to make sure she didn't do anything drastic until he worked out another plan.

 

_You think you can beat me at my own game? I've told you time and time again, and I will keep reminding you until it's through your thick skull: I've already won. Clara gets it. She's already made her decision. You, however, are just delaying the inevitable choice you have to make._

 

_What did you see outside the alley, Programmer? Are your memories seeping into the simulation? I didn't know that could happen to augmented humans…_ The Doctor sent to him. The train came to a halt at the next station. No, the same station, the Doctor realised. They were on a loop, with the train leaving the station at one end, and reappearing a few minutes later at the other end. Like clockwork, people boarded and disembarked, then the train sped off to the exact same destination as before. As he went to type on the phone again, his disguised hands flickered, revealing his bony fingers for a moment. Just out of his field of vision, a strikingly familiar woman sat down directly across from him. The Doctor chanced a look up, mouth parting slightly. Clara was sitting opposite him, oblivious to the fact that her holodisguise did not switch back on after malfunctioning. Looking back down at his phone, there was still no reply from the Programmer. He kept his head down and his voice low as he spoke.

 

"Clara? You're disguise?" The Doctor whispered, panic slipping through his tone. No one, including Clara, seemed to turn their head towards him. He tried again, this time trying subtly to make eye contact with her.

 

"Clara?" 

 

She looked up at him briefly, before casting her eyes down the carriage. Further down, a man stood up from his seat, pocketing his phone. The Doctor followed her gaze, spotting the man casually approaching them. He stopped in front of the carriage doors nearby, expression neutral.

 

_That's not Clara, is it?_ The Doctor typed. A low buzz emitted from his pocket, prompting the man to break into a small smile. As the Doctor went to look ahead once more, he found that the hologram had vanished. _Time to go,_ the Doctor figured and slowly got up. He edged towards the doors on the other side of the cabin. Internally, he cursed for having fallen for the trick. It would have been ideal to put this confrontation off for a little longer until he knew Clara's whereabouts. Making sure she didn't do anything rash was his number one priority. The train stopped, and the doors slid open. People pushed past the Doctor as they exited and entered. A final call sounded, and the Doctor checked the other set of open doors. The Programmer was still there, staring straight ahead. A grin remained plastered onto his face. Strangely, it wasn't sly. More of a relief, if anything.

 

_Wait… relieved? He's borderline desperate! Why's he relieved?_

 

The gears grinded to a halt.

 

_Bad memories coming through…_

 

The Doctor had overthought it. He'd overthought everything about this man.

 

_He could've ejected any room we set foot in to get rid of us if he wanted the TARDIS to just have a joyride. He has full access to the TARDIS. So why didn’t he? What else could he need? Oh. But he doesn't want the TARDIS, does he? He wants a paradox machine!_

 

"Ah, stupid, stupid me! It took me longer than it should have. What can I say? You caught me on a bad day. So, you want to change something that happened in the past, don't you? Clara was right, it was all a facade. And your plight… It's all the more dire. Bit of an anticlimax, if you ask me." The Doctor taunted, also staring dead ahead _._ The doors began to shut. Making a split-second decision, the Doctor quickly squeezed through them at the last second, jacket almost catching. To his left, the sound of pounding footsteps got closer and closer as the train moved off.

 

_Good. Give chase. As long as it's me, and not Clara… Hopefully he's closer than me to the holding cells._

 

The Time Lord's mouth curled into a smirk as he began to sprint parallel to the train. Things were always slightly better when the dots finally connected. The train disappeared through the tunnel a little ways ahead. He immediately dropped down onto the empty tracks and continued to follow the absent train. The Programmer's feet hit the hard metal tracks behind him _. What happens when we get to the tunnel? Would we be teleported to the other side of the station too_? He craned his head over his shoulder to see the enraged man hot on his tail. _Only one way to find out…_ At full speed, the Doctor tried to charge through the invisible barrier at the start of the tunnel. The barrier caught him with little deformation. He ricocheted off, landing painfully in the middle of the tracks. The Programmer laughed hysterically from behind, slowing down to a jog. Before the Doctor could roll away, the Programmer was already on top of him, fists clutching the lapels of his suit jacket.

 

"Now you're allowed to stay still." the Programmer spat, and raised his right index finger. The veins inside his hand glowed white as he lowered it down to the Doctor's temple.

 

"So you want the Codon! Even if you do obtain it and manage to build a paradox machine, the universe always finds a way to -" A hand quickly flew to the Doctor's throat. The two struggled on the tracks for a moment longer, before the Doctor managed to free an arm. The Programmer's hand was caught before he could start manually extracting information. The seething man released his grip on his prey's neck, swiftly pinning the Doctor's attacking arm down. Once again he attempted to touch the Doctor's temple. Another pair of shoes hit the metal beside them, and the Programmer was slammed with the full force of a charging body. The augmented human rolled awkwardly on the uneven ground, trying to regain the wind that was knocked out of him. A woman with short, black hair now stood between the Programmer and the Doctor.

 

"G-glad y-you could join us, C-Clara!" The Programmer managed to huff as he lazily rose to his feet. He froze. The unmistakable sound of ungreased wheels locking and grinding against metal blasted from behind. The Programmer spun on his heel, facing the fast approaching train. With realisation kicking in, he stumbled across the tracks, desperate to reach the platform. The Doctor scrambled to his feet, and clambered up to safety. Clara, however, made a beeline for the escaping man. She dragged him off the ledge with the full weight of her body. 

 

"No you don't! If you want me, I'm right here!" Clara growled, collapsing onto the tracks with the man and securing a firm hold on him.

 

"CLARA!" The Doctor yelled, watching helplessly as the train hurtled at a decreasing speed towards the pair _._ He couldn’t look away.

 

_It won't slow in time._

 

As it reached the pair, the train suddenly became transparent, and passed through them as if it were a ghost. It faded away, and the station began to melt rapidly. Familiar dizzy spills washed over him, but he never let his eyes leave Clara, who was close to unconsciousness down below the platform.

 

_She's okay… He changed… before the train…_ The Doctor slowly knelt down on the floor _._ Unable to finish his thoughts, he tumbled forwards. For the second time today, he was thankful for the change of scenery.

 

XXX

 

Clara blinked a couple of times, hoping to make the room come into focus quicker. She found herself sitting at a large, round table that was beautifully set with very fancy cutlery. These circular tables formed a perimeter around a large section of the room - presumably to allow space for dancing. Strangers, all dressed in their finest ball gowns and tuxedos, were also seated around the tables. Clara couldn't help but admire each individual's mask. Magnificent Venetian patterns of almost every colour imaginable stared right back at her. Lifting a hand to her face, she discovered that she too had a mask on. Glancing down at her strapless burgundy gown, she couldn't help but beam. If she wasn’t fighting against a maniac hell-bent on having the TARDIS, she would’ve enjoyed this very much. Chairs began to scrape against the sprung wooden floor. Everyone was rising from their seats and moving towards the centre of the room. Keeping up appearances, Clara hastily stood up and followed the group. Countless thoughts flooded her mind as a masked man appeared in front of her, offering his hand.

 

_Dancing? That'll keep us moving for sure. I wonder how close I am to the cells… Maybe I could just keep moving..? No. That won't do. Who knows what will happen in the meantime? It needs to be now, Clara, before the Programmer gets what he wants from the Doctor. So how do I go about drawing his attention without getting the Doctor involved?_

 

It was a struggle to bring herself out of her thoughts, but she managed. Clara took the man's outstretched hand, hoping her slight hesitation didn't draw any unwanted attention. She wasn't ready to confront the Programmer. Not yet, anyway. With hands on hips and over shoulders, the pair began to dance lightly, swaying to the bittersweet melody that played from an unknown source. _The simulations of me dying, splitting up, the holograms of us… Cause and effect._ She inevitably sank back into her thoughts instead of coming up with a plan. She only held him back. She was the reason they were far too deep in this mess. The Doctor was still recovering from Sister Xeka's onslaught as well. He was at his physical limits. Again, most of his injuries were her fault. Guilt spread like poison through her veins. Clara tried to supress the ill feeling. _Now's not the time. I need to focus_ … 

 

The music faded out, and the man who danced with her quickly moved on to another partner. Before Clara could inconspicuously look around, another masked man grabbed her hands. Taken aback by her new partner's hastiness, Clara almost instinctively pulled away when his hands dropped clumsily to her waist. The man glanced around, eyes everywhere except on her. He seemed too distracted to be a computer entity, and a bit too worried to be the Programmer. _Was this the Doctor then?_ Clara contemplated speaking up. She had nothing to lose. The same music started up again, and the slow tempo once more controlled their every muscle. Through his off-white mask, Clara could see the man's emerald eyes staring intently over her shoulder.

 

"Doctor?" Clara breathed, allowing only minimal movement of her lips. The man's eyes widened slightly - as if noticing his partner for the first time. His eyes settled on her mask. Clara cocked her head slightly, prompting him to give her the slightest of nods. They swayed about for a bit longer, before Clara decided to say more.

 

"You need to let me end the program."

 

He finally locked eyes with her, shaking his head and briefly tapping a finger to his lips. He then jabbed a finger to his left, giving her a concerned look. The hand he used to point did not return to her waist. Clara could still feel the Doctor's heavy stare as she glanced over to where he was pointing. A couple danced a bit slower than the rest of the ball-goers. The male of the pair was looking directly at them now. Clara casually turned her head back to her own partner. She was about to quietly inform him of what she saw until a sharp, excruciating burst of pain erupted in her abdomen. The emerald eyes that looked upon her with such concern quickly turned icy. Before she could register what was happening, her lower body became numb. Very numb. She could no longer feel the floor under her. The pain faded away as well. Staggering slightly, her eyes darted down to her stomach. The man in front of her had a tight grasp on a gilded metal handle that was protruding from her dress. Where it stuck out, the material around it had darkened considerably. She almost stumbled backwards as the man wrenched the bloody knife out of her gut. It clattered on the polished floor. A hand quickly returned to her backside to catch her. The man continued to support Clara as he half-dragged her along to the slow beat of the music. At least that's what she assumed, as she could only hear a faint buzz now. She also knew her knees were moments away from buckling, causing her to lean forwards into her dance partner. The man bent down, allowing her chin to rest on his shoulder. They twirled for what felt like an age before the man tilted his head slightly to whisper into his partner's ear:

 

"Only the happy few are allowed to walk between the raindrops."  

 

The words were lost on Clara. No matter how many shallow breaths she took, air refused to flow through her lungs. Black dots also began to dance around the room. If she wasn't shutting down, she'd have immediately identified what was happening to her. Clara blinked slowly, holding onto the Programmer's back to steady herself. The ballroom began to spin faster than they were twirling. In that moment, every dancer except one evaporated into thin air. The wood below was peeled back to reveal cold, hard metal. Her blood only remained. The walls morphed into the familiar architecture of the TARDIS - placing them in a dome-like room that had four reinforced doors with tiny slots. The Programmer came to a halt - his disguise now breaking up. Muted cries came from somewhere behind them. The Programmer ignored it, and laid Clara carefully on the floor. No longer hidden, he calmly stood up, unfazed at the dying woman that lay in front of him. With what little vision she had left, Clara examined the crazed man’s features. She wouldn't have pictured him to have mousey blonde hair that was unkempt. Her attention was quickly drawn to his sunken eyes - with the skin around them close to a deep purple. They told more than he ever let on when he spoke to them. She was ready. This was right. It would give the Doctor and the universe a fighting chance. The hazed thought was the only thing Clara held onto as she defiantly held the Programmer's gaze. His emerald eyes bore no conviction - only determination.  

 


	7. The Burning Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Programmer's endgame is revealed.

_**Chapter 7** _

Everything stilled. The Doctor's breath caught in his throat. Had his hearts stopped? He couldn't feel them beating rapidly against his chest anymore. His brain had also completely switched off, meaning no matter how hard he tried, his legs wouldn't move. He was like an old motor that refused to start. The sight of Clara on the floor, unmoving, drove the universe to a standstill.

_She can't be…_

Clara's hand suddenly shook uncontrollably. She barely managed to place it over her wound.

_If I can get her to the medbay…_

His mind kicked back into gear. Everything was moving again. He raced over to her. The Programmer took a few measured steps back to witness what was unfolding before him.

"Clara? Try not to move - you're going into shock. Soon, your body will decide that passing out is the best way to cope with the pain. I need you to fight that response until I get you to the medbay." the Doctor explained, placing her other hand over the bloody hole in her abdomen. With hands on top of hers, he lightly pressed down.

"Put as much pressure on it as you can, okay? Clara?" Desperation seeped into the Doctor's voice as he tried to get her talking. Her mouth began to form words, but they never left her lips. She instead tried for something simpler.

"Okay."

"I'm going to take you to the medbay. You're going to be fine." he reassured her with a cracking voice. She nodded slowly. Her eyes grew a little unfocused, but nevertheless, she continued to eyeball him. His face must have revealed more than he intended, as she gave him her infamous sad smile.

"Whisper sweet nothings into her ear, Doctor. It'll be your last chance to do so if you don't comply." The Programmer finally said, approaching them cautiously.

"You stay right where you are. I'll deal with you later." The Doctor snapped, preparing to cradle Clara. His insides burst into flames as he slowly lifted her up off the ground. Everything ached. Unfortunately, there was little adrenaline left to take advantage of. The strain of lifting her had also caused unbearable ripples of pain through his ribs and lower abdomen. The pain killers seemed to be finally wearing off.

_If I can get her into the stasis pod in the medbay…_ The thought was like fuel - it drove him onwards and through the fire.

_Just a little longer, Clara…_

The Doctor staggered over to the door. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Programmer place two fingers onto his temple. The door slid open, and to the Doctor's surprise, he found himself on the lower level of the console room. The Programmer waltzed past him scaled the stairs with ease. He spun on his heel, scowling down at the sorry sight of the Doctor carrying Clara's near lifeless body.

"Give me the Codon, and I'll move the medbay here. Scouts honour. Or, don't. Give it a few minutes. She'll die soon enough, and your defiance will have all been for nothing. You'll end up helping me build the paradox machine - that is, if you love her enough t- "

"Shut up! Move the medbay here now!" the Doctor roared. The Programmer shook his head sadly.

"Codon, please."

The Doctor stormed around the lower deck to another door, which lead to another long corridor. The Programmer flew down the flight of stairs and tailed the Doctor. As they approached the closest door in the corridor, the Doctor noticed Clara's eyelids drooping.

"Clara, stay with me. How many times have I carried you this week?"

Clara broke into a small grin, "Too many."

The door opened to reveal a bedroom. The Doctor spun around and pressed on to the next door.

"Tell me about Christmas. You never said why you wanted to stay longer in the dream?" The Doctor pressed. Maybe eliciting an emotional response would keep her awake.

"Was nice." Clara managed, before giving in to temptation. She slowly shut her eyes. Her head lolled back and hung heavy over the Doctor's arm.

"Clara!"

The Programmer frowned, "Just give me what I want, and I'll let you save her."

The Doctor looked down at Clara. Her once pinkish cheeks were now paling.

_Time is not our friend…There's always a choice…_ Her words echoed in his head.

"It's yours." The Doctor responded, resigning himself to the Programmer. He remained still as the man made his way over to him and tapped a glowing finger to his temple. A quick prick of pain through the side of his head, and flashes of the Codon played like a montage in front of his eyes. The Programmer severed the connection, breathing a small sigh of relief.

"That wasn't so hard now, was it? Go check the door again." He pointed to the one the Doctor had last tried. It opened to show a stark white room with various medical implements and equipment. The Doctor quickly stumbled in, going over to the far side of the room where an open cylindrical chamber lay horizontally. He carefully placed Clara inside on the padding and closed the capsule. Fingers danced over the controls, and the pod roared to life. Green lights flashed along the insides, scanning the patient inside. A hologram monitor appeared on the outside of the machine. Most of the numbers flashed red, giving a grim indication that Clara's vital signs were quickly dropping into dangerous territory. The Doctor selected the suspended animation option, and the pod quietened into a hum. It seemed as if the air around Clara stopped. Time had frozen inside the pod. The Doctor - for the moment - could breathe a bit easier.

_Nothing in here will suffice at this stage. We'll need to go to a proper medical facility,_ the Doctor thought bitterly. He spun on his heel, cursing for not giving up sooner.

_I need to convince him to take us there._

The Programmer was long gone. Another curse escaped through his teeth as he ran back out into the corridor and headed for the console room. The Time Lord paused just at the entrance, grasping his lower abdomen. It felt as if the skin and muscle were being torn apart all over again. His legs also felt like lead - a reminder that fatigue had begun to shadow him. It was only a matter of time before his body completely registered his shear exhaustion. On the upper deck, the Programmer crouched under the navigation panel, installing his home-made converter with the aid of the Codon. A date, time, and coordinates were seared onto every overhead monitor in the room.

"Is the safety off? The old girl will fight you if she knows what you're up to." The Doctor called out, struggling to control the level of frustration and infuriation in his tone. He climbed the stairs to find the Programmer - unusually illuminated in the deep blue glow of the console room - now amongst piles of large cables and electronics. A few of those cables were connected underneath the console and ran out through the doors.

"Safety's off."

"So what's your plan? Head back, fix whatever happened, and then convert the TARDIS into a paradox machine? Live happily ever after?"

"We're already where I need to be." The man dismissed him. Gone was the mask of a psychotic and enigmatic hacker that had enjoyed tormenting him and Clara. That had taken pleasure in relentlessly hunting the two of them in the only safe place they knew. Instead, the shell of a man stood in front of him - on edge at what lay ahead. The Doctor couldn't help but wonder how long the Programmer had been playing this game for. His messy features and almost skeleton-like appearance suggested far too long a time. Now, he was on the home-stretch. Now, he was done playing games.

_What is he even playing for? It has to be relatively major if he needs a paradox machine…_

"So why am I still in the picture?" The Doctor suddenly asked, keeping his distance. The Programmer eyed him suspiciously, before returning his attention to the systems panel. It was modified with digital gauges and an attached command prompt. The Programmer punched in some code, and the TARDIS rumbled. Seeing the TARDIS in this state only amplified the Doctor's fury.

"In case something goes wrong."

"Something always goes wrong. It's the story of the universe. Not my problem if it does." The Doctor shrugged. He stepped over a bunch of cables to examine the coordinates more closely.

_52nd Century? Nothing overly terrible happened then… Perhaps this is a more personal trip?_

"You're also here because of Clara Oswald. You need me to drop you two off at a hospital, don't you?"

"You'll do that first, if you don't mind."

"No, I'll do it after I'm satisfied with your help. And, if you put one little toe out of line while we're outside… I swear to you, I'll have the power deactivated in the medbay before you can blink." The Programmer headed over to the double doors and exited the TARDIS. In a last-ditch effort, the Doctor sprung onto the console, punching in Emergency Program Five. This was one program he was very glad to have created. Having the TARDIS evaluate data from the medbay and use this to materialise at an appropriate medical facility had saved both his and his companions' lives countless times. However, it didn't seem to be working. The TARDIS groaned as he tried implementing the program again. A voice came mockingly from behind, breathing life into the maniac of a man he'd first spoken to.

"You seem to be forgetting that I'm wirelessly plugged into the TARDIS. The override codes I have stored here," he tapped the side of his head, "mean she won't move unless I say. Please, don't bother trying. Outside. Now."

"You need to tell me what the plan is first before I blindly help you."

"I should have given myself more time…" The Programmer said nervously to himself as he ducked back outside. The Doctor sighed, following wearily in the distracted man's wake. He emerged from the TARDIS to find himself at the centre of an abandoned factory. The brightly lit space was crowded with rows and rows of decommissioned robotic assembly arms. Conveyer belts weaved between these machines, disappearing into holes in the walls and floor. Around the TARDIS, more thick cables were attached to a massive contraption that looked like some sort of complex generator. A rusty metal desk with blueprints and a large hard drive was also positioned next to the police box. The Doctor stalked over to it. The papers were in Gallifreyan and detailed the assembly of the contraption he spotted under the console. _How did he get a hold of this?_ His thoughts were quickly silenced upon examining the amount of power required to sustain the machine. The complex generator alone wouldn't be able to handle it.

"We only have 5 minutes until I need to intervene in an event that happens just outside this factory. The converter takes roughly 20 minutes. Make sure nothing happens whilst I'm gone. There'll only be a small window of time before the Reapers come…"

"Hang on, hang on, hang on. This machine's going to drain all the power and send it to the console room! The stasis pod will deactivate regardless of whether I help you or not! You need to take us to a hospital. _Right now_." The Doctor jabbed a finger at him.

"Too late. The conversion has already started. Besides, there's a hospital in this city."

"What if it's not advanced enough to treat her? What if it's too far away?"

"Well then, that's your problem, isn't it? Or is that what you call the story of the universe?"

The Doctor gritted his teeth. Enough was enough.

"What have you lost, hmm? Name it. It can't be that important that you'd fracture time for it." The Doctor spat.

The Programmer stopped dead in his tracks. He twisted around with eyes like daggers aimed directly at the Doctor, "And what exactly is your definition of important? You have one of the most powerful time machines, and yet you don't change a single thing - no matter the scale! You just hop around sight-seeing! Why not do some good? Change -"

"Don't pretend you know who I am and what I do - that's your first mistake. Your second is believing everything you read. Just because the history books don't mention my name doesn't mean I haven't helped and changed things where I can. You wouldn't have even been aware of some of the events I've stopped. It would've been written out of history the moment things changed!"

"How do I believe you when there's still so much wrong in the universe?"

"The state of the universe doesn't solely fall on my shoulders! But that's beside the point. You know nothing about how far I've gone to make things better and how much I have lost in the process. You lost something? Big deal! People have lost far more. There are rules - for a very good reason - that keep us from finding what we've lost. You are not special; you do not get to decide whether those rules bend to your will. And you certainly don't get to decide whose life ends to bend said rules!"

"I didn't decide that. You must know, Clara went of her own volition. My wife - yes, my wife - did not. It's true that I don't know everything about you. But I do know this: You're a coward. Too afraid to do what's good because you're so caught up in being right!" the Programmer bellowed, prompting the Doctor to arch an eyebrow.

"So that's what this misguided crusade has been about? Your wife was taken from you? I'm terribly sorry to hear that. I hope she wasn't emotionally manipulated at a low point in her life - like Clara was." The Programmer scoffed, but the Doctor ignored him and continued on, "She was still coming to terms with some… unfortunate events that have happened to her. She's lost someone close to her too, you know. And you didn't help at all by filling her head with god knows what! She didn't go willingly. No. You took advantage of her. _You_ took her. That, I cannot forgive, nor will I ever forget. Both of those are dangerous things to hold over me." The Doctor's trembling fists clenched tightly.

The Programmer's eyes suddenly bugged out. "We're going to miss it!" He sprinted over to the factory exit and disappeared into the night. The Doctor pursued him outside.

_I need to get the override codes from him before the power finishes redirecting!_

The Doctor found himself on the footpath of a dark, run-down street in the middle of torrential rain. Glancing to his right, he spotted the Programmer not too far away at the corner of the factory building. With a phone held to his ear, the man peered intently at a woman who stood under an umbrella a few feet away. She appeared to be in front of a cinema, as she stood alone near a set of holoposters. Further along, the Doctor observed another man with his head glued to the building's glass window.

_Is that the wife? And is that young man the Programmer?_ The Doctor wondered. The bubbling rage he felt earlier was now dissipating slightly. The Programmer from the future became restless as he lingered in the shadows. Before the Doctor could stop him, he'd already hung up the phone and had darted over to the woman. Curious to see how this would play out, the Doctor came within earshot to catch the end of the conversation.

"It IS me! I'm your husband! Please, just listen: you're going to die in a couple of minutes. You need to get as far away from here as you can." he explained, visibly shaking. The woman took a few steps back. Her body immediately tensed up as he tried to close the gap between them.

"Sir, you need help, okay? B-but you need to keep your distance."

The Programmer wildly shook his head and reached out to seize her arm. The woman screamed. She scurried into the alley between the factory and the cinema. The Programmer stumbled in after her.

The Doctor groaned and gave chase. Puddles exploded around him. He was soaked, and could hardly hear through the downpour of rain. Poor visibility meant he couldn't even see a couple feet in front of him. His hearts dropped to his stomach as he came to a stop at an intersection.

_Which way?_

A bloodcurdling scream echoed down to his left. The Doctor made double time - much to his body's protests. Ahead, the Programmer had the woman pinned to the wall. Were they both crying? Or was it just the rain dripping down their faces? The Doctor couldn't tell even as he got nearer.

"P-please, don't h-hurt me." she sobbed.

"Hurt you? I'm trying to save you! It's been 20 years since I last saw you! Why don't you believe me?" The Programmer pleaded as she struggled under his grasp.

"Programmer, stop this nonsense. You're scaring her!" The Doctor yelled, moving closer to pull him off the poor woman.

The Programmer partially released the wife. He aimed a trembling finger to the Doctor, "Stay OUT of this!"

The woman took advantage of the lessened force upon her and ducked under the Programmer's outstretched arm. The Programmer managed to latch onto her wrist before she could escape. He yanked her, a little too forcefully, back toward him. The motion caused her to swing around him in an arc.

The rain around them slowed.

The woman was propelled head-first into the wall. The sound of bone crunching onto brick pierced sharply through the booming downfall. The wife crumpled to the ground in a heap. Time sped up again. Everything was moving. Everything except the Programmer, who'd frozen up completely. The Doctor skidded to the floor to be beside the woman. Blood pooled from a deep gash on the side of her head. It was too harsh an impact to assume anything remotely hopeful. The pair could now hear faint cries coming from the intersection.

"You hear that? That's probably you. Do you want to find out what happens when you meet your past self? No? Neither do I! Let's go!" Doctor barked as he shot up from the floor. The Programmer remained still. The man couldn't tear his eyes away from the lifeless body that lay slumped in a mix of crimson and dirty water. The wretched state of his face told the Doctor only one dreadful thing: He had realised that he was the cause of it all. The Doctor roughly dragged him away, and they both headed deeper into the network of back-alleys.

"You two! Stop!" The young Programmer cried from behind them. The sound of footsteps sloshing through deep puddles was getting closer and closer. They weaved through trash cans and old boxes until they spotted an emergency fire escape door. The Doctor withdrew his sonic, aiming it straight at the alarm above. It clicked, and the pair barged through into a run-down apartment block foyer without setting off the alarm.

"Stairs. Now!" The Time Lord hissed. They bolted up the stairwell. Their heavily saturated clothes did not interfere with their pace as they continued to the roof. Upon exiting the stairwell, the two were met with blaring sirens. Blue and red lights lit up the darkened street below.

"You called the police?!" The Doctor dramatically threw his hands into the air, struggling to catch his breath. The Programmer remained silent. A few moments passed. Suddenly, the distraught man staggered over to the building ledge. He hauled himself up and bent his head down towards the pavement below. _What's he doing? I'm not picking through bits of brain to find a broken memory chip! It'll take too long to bypass the override codes manually as well... I need to stop him,_ the Doctor decided.

"No - okay, listen. You're upset - really upset. You're not thinking straight. Just give yourself a moment, and come back down." The Doctor said calmly, treading softly towards the ledge. Eyes quickly locked onto him, and the Programmer stepped closer to the where the ledge ended.

"Don't," The Programmer warned, choking back a sob, "don't try and stop me. I just… The universe is wrong when she's not in it… And - and it's all wrong because of me!"

The Doctor came to a halt, contemplating a different approach. He selected his next words carefully. "What is your real name?"

"What? My name never mattered…" The Programmer snorted, now fixated on the futuristic cars that whizzed below. The Doctor hoped he wouldn't attract a crowd on the ground.

"Sometimes a name is all that matters. What was hers?"

There was a long pause before the Programmer finally replied, "Evie."

"A beautiful name…" The Doctor remarked, squinting up at the patchy black sky. The drizzle gave the illusion that tiny glistening specs floated around them.

_Maybe the chip won't break on impact?_ A horrid thought, but the Doctor made no attempt to ignore it as anger slowly resurfaced within him.

"The universe is a funny old thing. It continues to surprise me to even to this day. My question to you is: what exactly were you expecting when you came back here? If you succeeded, I mean? Sure, the paradox would have lasted for a while, but even then, time finds a way to rectify. Surely someone as knowledgeable as yourself would have realised the implications of fashioning time to your liking? That everything unravels?"

"Would she have lived if I didn't intervene?" The Programmer inquired, turning his head to address the Doctor.

The Doctor gave an awkward chuckle, "You came here, and she died. If you didn't, well, she would've still died. Otherwise, why would you have come back in time in the first place? The universe is like that you know… Unforgiving, and unpredictable."

"So there was no choice." he concluded, turning his attention back to the long drop down. He edged closer to jump.

_It's Clara's life I'm gambling if I let him…_

"No, there was an illusion of choice when it came to you saving your wife. Her death was a fixed point in time. It couldn't have been changed. You did have a choice, however, when you decided how her death would define you. You chose quite poorly, by the way."

"Hand in hand… But without your hand to hold..?" The Programmer muttered to himself, tuning out the Doctor. The heartbroken man braced himself, hands extended to either side. He leant forwards…

"Stop! Don't you get it? Today, you've been given a second chance! A rare thing, to choose again! You can redefine yourself! You can choose death, sure. But why not honour Evie's memory? Choose to live? Put your talents to good use? Redeem yourself?" The Programmer caught himself upon hearing the Doctor say her name.

"How could I live with myself, knowing what I've done? No matter what I do now, I will never be happy. I've already tainted her memory these past twenty years, and I've lived with that for some time now. But, knowing I was the cause of her death… There's no earthly way of honouring her memory now! And how could you, of all people, convince me not to jump? Why don't you push me? Let gravity be your weapon? After everything I did to you and Clara Oswald, how could you not kill me?"

The Doctor sighed deeply, "If you tried this with me a couple of months ago, I probably would have let you jump. But I try not to be like that anymore. I was given a second chance too, so I'm trying to be better - for myself - but mostly for Clara as well. Use your second chance. Be better. For both yourself and for your wife. I cannot decide for you what you end up doing with that second chance, but perhaps I can help make it easier."

"How?" The Programmer turned his back to the busy street below.

"I can use my sonic screwdriver to clear your memory chip. It will be quick and unbiased. No sentimental thoughts that would otherwise stop you from deleting emotionally charged memories of her. It will also be far quicker than you painstakingly browsing through, deciding what to delete. I'll wipe all your memories of her. No, I'll do you one better! I'll wipe the past 20 years! You can start again." The Doctor offered.

"Do you need to delete every single memory of her?"

"It would be best if you didn't retain anything."

The Programmer held the Time Lord's gaze, mulling over everything he'd said. He finally nodded, and gingerly stepped down from the ledge, "Why are you really doing this? Why help me?"

"Second chances are a rare thing." The Doctor shrugged, becoming increasingly aware of the manhunt that was being conducting by police on the street. He would almost certainly be questioned if they found him scurrying back to the factory.

_Just hand me the chip..._

The Doctor held out a hand. He twirled the sonic around expectantly in his other. The Programmer approached the waiting Time Lord, reaching to the left side of his head. He tapped a finger on his temple, and the skin parted to reveal a tiny metal chip. Ever so carefully, the Programmer picked it out and placed it into the Doctor's outstretched palm. The sonic was then aimed at the chip, emitting a low buzz. The Programmer cocked an eyebrow after a few seconds passed. He'd expected the process to be finished by now. Realisation soon dawned, causing him to hum.

"The things we'd do for loved ones we may never see again... Like preventing a man that has caused nothing but heartache from falling into the jaws of death. It's under the filename 'Boogey_TPXEC0X12', by the way."

The Doctor blinked rapidly as he looked up from the small device. The sonic beeped excitedly, indicating it had found the override codes.

"Thank you. Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

The Programmer shook his head, "No, but you're right. It's for the best. I really should be thanking you. I'm sorry for what I did to you and Clara Oswald. Treasure each other's company, Doctor. Don't take that happiness for granted. It'll be gone before you know it."

"I understand." The Doctor reassured him.

"Go ahead."

A whirring sound now came from the sonic, causing the chip to crackle slightly. After a few moments, the Doctor handed the chip back to the Programmer.

"I'm sorry Evie. I love you…" The Programmer whispered to himself before returning the memory chip to its port. His eyes were now aglow. The augmented human's systems began to update. It was somewhat unsettling to see the Programmer's heartbroken features default to a blank stare. The Doctor decided to head off before the Programmer reawakened and began asking questions. It was better to start afresh, than to have a stranger lie and tell you what to do next. Taking the steps two at a time, only one sentence played over and over in the Doctor's mind:

_I hope I'm not too late…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey all! I finished this chapter early so hope you enjoy the early post! The chapter I upload after this will *most likely* be the last. Thanks again for reading and following this story. :) x


	8. Before You Leave Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor deals with the aftermath of the Programmer's mission.

_How long was she to stand in the void for? Alone. All alone. If this was heaven, then where was her mum? Where was Danny? Where were all the people she befriended but lost during her and the Doctor's travels? Perhaps this was hell? Was this what hell was like? To just stare into the void? She immediately felt selfish, as she wished that the Doctor was standing beside her. They could wait until the void finally stared back. It was only here, in the company of death, that she realised they could both endure forever. Maybe that was another thing to do in this place, she decided. She could dwell on everything that was, and everything that wasn't. It didn't matter in the end, anyway. But was this the end? It seemed like an ending. But this didn't look like it ended - no matter how many pages she turned. When would this end? Her life was well and truly over, wasn't it? So why beat the dead horse? Why have it continue in this pit of nothingness?_

She suddenly felt cold. Extremely cold. The void started to recede. In its place, an intense white. Objects and figures began to form, and Clara lazily blinked to try bring clarity. She could feel a pair of arms cradling her around her back and legs. Through the thick haze in her head, a voice boomed above her. It was clear amongst the murmur.

"She needs help!"

Her eyes refused to make the journey to the source.

XXX

_The darkness radiated around her once more. Had she ever come this close to death before? She already knew the answer. Christmas. Clara remembered vividly each dream that the dream-crabs had plunged her into in the hopes of keeping her there. They needn't have tried hard; she was happy to have stayed there. But she chose to stay. And she chose to end the simulation. It really made her wonder: At what point in her life did deciding to throw herself into the abyss become so easy? Again, she already knew the answer. But why was it so hard to embrace now? On Christmas Eve, she was pacified into death's awaiting arms - not having to think or feel. It was so easy then. Now, there was no anaesthetic. No voice of reason either. It was just her, and her thoughts. There were no pleasant images of her life flashing before her eyes. Ah, her life recently… It had been a month since her recently stagnant life found its second wind. Could she even call it that? Sure, she had decided to start traveling with the Doctor again. But each day was a distraction. An excuse not to think. A reason to pretend. She had kept her sorrows well away from him. Time would heal all wounds, she told herself. But did it really?_

The cold began to nibble at her skin once more, reeling her back into the foreign world that now raced around her. Colours began to steadily bleed into her vision, and the bright white settled. Everything slowly came into focus.

She wished it hadn't.

Her heart slammed into her aching chest as she found herself lying in her own sweat on a gurney. The bottom of her bloodied blouse was undone, revealing a thick, yellow paste that was smeared over her stomach. A strange mask also muzzled her mouth, leaving a faint metallic taste. No matter how much she willed herself to move, none of her muscles responded. Her attention then snapped to the bizarre androids surrounding her. They dragged her cot down an empty corridor. Each wore a face that seemed to be fused with surgical eye-glasses and a respiratory mask. Thin wires bunched together to compose their necks.

_Where are they taking me?_

"…critical condition…" her ears began to pick up their disembodied voices, causing a flurry of alarmed thoughts to flood her mind. They were all nameless faces carting her to an unknown destination, after all.

Except for one.

From head to toe, the Doctor was drenched. His once curly hair now sat flat on the top of his head. The button up shirt he wore was plastered to his skin, revealing the outline of the tattered bandages that were underneath. He was engaged with the android closest to where her feet lay on the trolley. Clara couldn't even begin to process the conversation, but regardless, her heart settled. _If he's here, then everything should be okay_. The surgically cladded android that the Doctor was speaking with suddenly held out an arm, preventing him from following Clara into the next room. Clara's gurney kept pace however. The Doctor's blood-stained hands flew down to his ribs. His face was scrunched in agony. The android gestured for him to follow, but was quickly brushed off. Instead, the Time Lord stood still. He continued to stare even after his friend had disappeared behind double doors. One of the androids suddenly noticed Clara's panicked expression, and immediately reached down to click a button on her mask. The metallic taste in her mouth grew stronger, and the room began to fade.

_I can't be like this anymore…_

XXX

Drawing the curtains in, the Doctor rounded Clara's bed and slumped himself onto the chair next to it. Clara stirred in her sleep. He bit his lip, trying not to cry out from the pain that shot through his lower abdomen and ribs. Rest. Rest was what he needed now. There was no rest to be had when he anxiously waited - for what seemed like days - outside the operating theatre. Much to the staff's protests, the Doctor refused to seek medical treatment during his time spent waiting. They were flesh wounds; they would heal within the hour once he found the time to replace the healing patches. In his mind, there were much more important things to worry about. For one, regardless of being millions of years into the future relative to Clara's time, he still wasn't sure whether it was too late for her. Had she lost too much blood? Or had shock finally taken her? Even after the surgeons came out and told him she would be fine, he still worried they had overlooked something. Had the blade penetrated an organ? Had they missed a potential infection? Those thoughts slowly dissolved away now that she was here, sleeping in the intensive care ward. The staff had gladly allowed him to review their operational methods and results, which had also helped put his mind at ease. He now found himself eying a gooey blue jello cup on her bedside table, contemplating whether to pop off to the TARDIS to get cleaned up and replace the bandages and patches. Before his mind was made up however, Clara had opened her eyes.

"Rise and shine." The Doctor watched with mild amusement as his companion groggily came to terms with her new surroundings.

"Woah, hi."

"How are you feeling?"

Clara paused for a moment, examining the room she was in with peaked interest, "A bit icky. Where are we exactly?"

"In a hospital a couple million years relative to you."

"Oh," she ran a hand through her hair, nervously observing the machinery next to her bed, "and, uh, how long have you been waiting?"

"Not long," the Doctor lied. Her gaze drifted to him. He was somewhat dry, and looked as if he had been dragged through a sewer. Before she could say anything else, the Doctor quickly spoke.

"I suppose you want to know what happened… I can explain everything over a, uh…" he pointed to the blue substance, "They told me that was a jello cup. I scanned it. It's edible."

Clara shook her head, not bothering to look where the Doctor was pointing.

"You've got to get me out of here. I told myself if I ever ended up in hospital again, it'd be too soon!" she exclaimed. The Doctor chuckled, wearily getting out of his chair.

"I don't blame you. But, you see, the thing is…"

"Doctor," Clara warned.

"You're in an intensive care ward."

"Is that bad?"

"In this day and age, being held in intensive care for abdominal trauma is unheard of. You'd be out of hospital the second they were done operating on you. However, your body has responded poorly to the treatment and medication. The doctors here have also discovered you have a very weak bone structure, among many other 'strange' anatomical things." the Doctor explained with a sheepish expression.

"What!?"

"Don't panic. It's normal. Normal for someone from the 21st century. We're a million years into humanity's story. Humans have evolved considerably. They've developed stronger bones to withstand the harsh environments of deep-space, and they've grown a tolerance for quite intensive and alien medical treatments."

"So why don't you tell them that?"

"Ahh, well… I couldn't," he scratched the side of his head, averting her gaze, "Time travel is not an uncommon thing in this time. And as such, there are certain rules established that forbid bringing people from the past to take advantage of treatments not yet available to them."

"Oh…"

The Doctor hummed lowly.

"Now you really need to get me out of here before they find that out." Clara hissed.

"I told them I was exploring one of the more treacherous off-world colonies when I met you. The doctors figured that you were perhaps… underdeveloped, but wanted to run tests on you to be sure…" The Doctor copped an intense glare from Clara. He threw his hands up in surrender.

"Okay, okay. I'll go get the TARDIS."

"Where is it?"

"In the foyer of the emergency department. They're keeping a close eye on it, I believe."

The machines next to the bed suddenly churned to life. It produced a loud hiss, causing Clara to flinch. The pair both watched as the drip attached to Clara's arm filled with a crystal clear substance.

"Oh, brilliant. What just went into my arm?" Clara groaned.

The Doctor headed towards the exit, waving a hand nonchalantly, "It's alright. It just means you'll be sleepy by the time I get back. Won't be a minute."

Clara couldn't quite hear what he'd muttered afterwards. Something about changing clothes? But the Doctor was right about her not being able to handle the medication. The unknown liquid being pumped into her hit hard and fast. She immediately felt drowsy - a feeling quite familiar now, much to her dismay. There would be no waking up in foreign worlds, nor waking up in another simulation. She knew the Doctor would deliver. She'd be home in bed the next time she woke. With that reassuring thought, Clara lay comfortably back into her pillow and let her heavy eyelids droop.

XXX

The TARDIS door creaked open, and the Doctor stepped out into Clara's gloomy bedroom. The moonlight streaked in through the partially closed curtains, illuminating parts of her bed. He folded the doona back, before retracing his steps to the console room to retrieve Clara. Slowly lifting her off the seat, he wandered through the doors and back into the dark. On the way to her bed, his toe slammed into something rock-solid. Biting down on his tongue could only do so much, as muffled cries escaped his lips. Wincing, the Doctor carefully placed Clara onto her bed and threw the duvet over her. She deserved rest. They both did. Back-to-back trouble, the Doctor found, was quite draining - both emotionally and physically. _At least she looks peaceful_ , he thought.

_And alive,_ the voice in his head added. The Doctor frowned, hovering beside her bed. There were a number of times that Clara had a brush with death, and every time, the Doctor had berated himself afterwards. He felt that she came back a little more… untethered than before. Was it a coping mechanism? He didn't know. His mind wandered further. Was all this traveling really any good for her after everything that happened with Danny or the dream-crabs? The Doctor realised that Clara never let her grief show after he whisked her away that night. That is, until she had broken her arm. That seemed like weeks ago to him, but in reality, it had only happened yesterday. The Doctor wondered; his hearts tightening with every intruding thought that forced its way to the surface. Only one thought lingered: Was Christmas really his second chance? Maybe it was here and now. Whether to leave her for good, and far away from danger and anymore misfortune. Both seemed intent on following him to the grave, so why have her endure it with him? She'd already lost so much, but she'd be losing him too. He knew full well he was capable, as he'd left her before out of necessity, and because she had asked. But she wasn't asking now, and he wasn't sure whether it was all that necessary to leave her. With the relationship they held, he still owed her so much. But wouldn't leaving her to live a full life without the threat of mortality be fulfilling that debt? It wasn't right to abandon her, but it was good for her. He had to look away. The sight of her had never brought him such inner turmoil before. He took it as a sign, and tip-toed his way back to the TARDIS. The deafening silence in the room was interrupted by the creaking of her bed.

"The last time you hovered at the end of my bed like that, you asked me to come away with you," Clara said, causing the Doctor to freeze. Witnessing the Doctor tense up, Clara giggled, "Did you really think I was asleep?"

Thankful for being shrouded in shadows, he turned to face her, "You mean to tell me that I carried you - for the third time in a span of 24 hours might I add - when you could have walked?"

"Hey, I woke to the lovely sounds of Scottish grumbling only a moment ago. And who's keeping count, anyway?" Clara shrugged. The moonlight highlighted her face, showing her cheeky smirk. She certainly looked a lot more coloured in since they last spoke. Getting her off the medication turned out to not be such a bad idea after all.

"How do you feel now?" The Doctor inquired, not moving from the safety of the darkness.

"The usual: Tired and a bit sore. Nothing a good night's sleep won't fix. How about you?" she asked, eyebrows raising slightly at his hesitation to come closer.

"I'm okay." The Doctor replied, the slightest of quavers plaguing his voice.

"Doctor, is everything alright?" the playfulness in her voice was gone.

"Just wondering whether or not I should leave you."

"Oh don't worry! I'm having a lie in tomorrow, so I don't mind staying up. That can't be why you're acting weird. Was it the Programmer? Tell me what happened."

He finally crossed the floor, choosing to sit at the end of her bed where the light didn't hit. Clara sat up and leaned closer.

"Turns out the Programmer just wanted save his late wife. He wanted the Codon from me to convert the TARDIS into a paradox machine so the two of them wouldn't rip a hole in the fabric of time."

"Hmph. It really did seem like there was more to it than 'infinite knowledge'. What I want to know is how did he know he could do that with the TARDIS?" Clara asked. The Doctor inhaled deeply. It was on his mind too, but had been placed on the backburner when Clara had her brief dance with death. Only now had he registered that he knew the answer all along. Who else could have told the Programmer such intimate information about him, Clara, and the TARDIS? Who else could have known about New Earth, and given the vengeful Sister Xeka a ride to the 21st Century? Who else could have filled both lost souls with such twisted hope? Oh, he knew alright. There was always an inkling - a sliver of doubt as to whether the only other Time Lord in the universe was well and truly dead.

"Someone at ground zero must have kept records of it when it happened on Earth." he heard himself lying. Clara tilted her head slightly.

_Clara doesn't need to hear it now_ , the Doctor reasoned with himself. A mental note was made to bring it up at a later time.

"So what happened to him, then? How did you win?"

"I talked to him."

"Surely not?" Clara scoffed. He quickly recalled that she still held the image of the psychotic Programmer, not the empty man that had finally revealed himself.

"It was complicated."

"Go on. I missed out on all the action, remember?"

The Doctor began recounting everything that happened after Clara passed out in his arms, paying close attention to the details in her face as the story went on. He found Clara with a sombre expression by the time he finished.

"We happy few…" Clara muttered to herself.

"I'm sorry?"

"It was something he said to me. I think I get what it means now. Funny that, how it's not the best you learn from; it's the worst."

"Clara, he was borderline mad. His twenty years of grieving stopped being healthy a long time ago. In retrospect, I suppose his insanity was to make up for him forgetting he actually killed his own wife in the future..."

"Yeah, but… you can't help but feel sorry for the guy."

"I almost lost you because of him. I almost lost you a few times today. You -" The walls he so meticulously constructed came crashing down around him. Everything would have spilled there and then, had Clara not have interrupted.

"And I almost lost you too! Doctor, what we do, it doesn't always end up being the safest thing. I understand the risk I take whenever I step into that blue box with you. But it's worth it. It's the price we pay to escape an ordinary life. You know that better than anyone! You're the man who takes me to see the universe, and more often than not, to go save it! I couldn't imagine my life any other way." She looked as if something had ignited in her as she began to fiddle with the hem of the duvet.

"I know, I know. But this mess could have been avoided if I didn't make that program in the first place… Or if I'd have just given him what he wanted at the start." he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Basically, it was all my fault that you got seriously injured tonight, and I'm truly sorry for that."

"No, _do not_ start with that. You don't get to reassure me that I wasn't at fault for hurting you at that hospital, then turn around and say that. The Programmer was solely to blame. Not you." Clara said crisply. He knew she had plenty more to say - with the aim of trying to redirect the blame onto herself - but was surprised to see her catch herself. Clara instead turned her attention to the window, noticing how the pavement outside gleamed in the night. It looked as if they had just missed the rain.

"I don't know what else to say." the Doctor finally replied. He watched as she returned her attention to him; her sad smile on full display.

"Don't say anything more about it then. Doctor, I… I think we should probably stop dwelling in the past - figuratively, I mean. I'd very much like to go visit somewhere in the past sometime soon. Maybe after we rest up. But my point is, we can't let what happened pick us apart like this. It really draws us away from what's happening in front of us. Although, I'm certainly one to talk… I'm sure you've noticed these past couple of weeks that I've not really been appreciative of our time spent together, because, y'know… my head's been elsewhere…" she trailed off.

"Clara, it's okay to be like that - especially after everything that's happened to you. That's why I've been offering to take you away so often."

"You don't deserve that though."

"That's what friends are for, if I'm not mistaken." The Doctor could see her eyes begin to well up, but she refused to let a tear fall. He suspected that she would have hugged him in that moment, had he not have chosen to sit so far away. He couldn't go any nearer. He just couldn't. The mere thought of deciding to leave was now sickening to him.

"Thank you." Clara suddenly said.

"For what?"

"For these past couple of weeks. And, for saving me tonight."

"It was nothing." The Doctor told her with a shake of his head. After a few moments silence, the Time Lord clapped both hands on his knees, "I should go..."

_She's finally opening up, and I'm running off…_

Clara watched sadly as he stood up and wandered back to the TARDIS.

"I'll miss you." she called after the Doctor, causing him to pause at the doors of the police box.

_Of course she's cottoned on…_

He turned to face her, giving his best smile.

"Don't miss me for too long."

~~~END~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And... Finished! In my head, I'd like to think this is the last time Clara sees the Doctor until the Magician's Apprentice...
> 
> Anyway, thank you all so much for reading my fic! A special thank you too if you reviewed, followed or kudos'd this fic. It was loads of fun to write, but more so to write for an expecting audience! Please, I'd love to hear from you guys in the comments. I welcome feedback/criticism too, as it only helps me improve for future fics (which I've currently been thinking about while finishing this one up). As usual, stay tuned for the next adventure - I'll be sure to post the prologue here when I eventually get around to starting a new Doctor Who fic (expect a long hiatus though). Thanks again guys. :) xx

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! Thanks for reading! This is the first chapter of the sequel to 'My Kingdom Come'. If you haven't read 'My Kingdom Come' yet, I've included it along with We Happy Few in a series on AO3.


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